"Are you following on foot? I wish I was. Never thought of it till this moment."

"I would much rather follow on horseback," Dot declared, looking as if she did not believe him.

He laughed. "I'll take you in front of me if you'll come."

"No. I shouldn't like that," said Dot very decidedly.

"How can you possibly know till you try?"

Dot looked up at him with the sunshine in her clear eyes. "How do you know that you would prefer to follow the hounds on foot? I don't suppose you ever have."

"How do I know?" laughed Bertie. "Because I should be in your company, of course. Isn't that reason enough?"

"Idiot!" said Dot tersely.

"Minx!" said Bertie.

She flushed, looked angry for a moment, and then in spite of herself dimpled into a smile. "Bertie, you're a beast! Say that again if you dare!"

"I daren't," said Bertie.

"No, I thought not. Now apologise!"

"Oh, not now! Not in public!" he pleaded. "I'll drop in this evening and you can shrive me before I go to bed."

"I shan't be at home," said Dot, with her head in the air.

"Oh, yes, you will. Anyway, I'm bound to catch you if I wait long enough." Bertie spoke with cheery a.s.surance. "Hullo! What do you want?"

His expression altered as his glance fell upon his brother, who had just come to his side. He looked inclined to scowl.

But Nap was not apparently desiring an introduction to the rector's daughter. "Hold the mare a minute, will you?" he said.

Bertie complied and he swung himself to the ground.

Lady Carfax was coming towards them and he went to meet her.

Her grey eyes smiled a friendly welcome. "I was just wondering if you were here."

He bowed low. "I am honoured indeed to be in your thoughts for a single instant."

"I hope I do not forget my friends so easily," she said. "Oh, here are some more of them! Excuse me for a moment."

She went straight to Dot, shook hands with her and her brother, and stood chatting for a few seconds.

Nap remained close behind her, and after a little she turned to Include him in the group. "Have you ever met this Mr. Errol. Dot? Mr.

Errol--Miss Waring!"

Dot bowed again with a scarlet countenance, but the next instant a friendly inspiration delivered her from the moment's awkwardness.

"And you don't know Bertie Errol, do you, Lady Carfax?" she said eagerly.

"Let me introduce him. He studies with Dad, you know."

"When he isn't hunting, or paper-chasing, or--baking cakes," said Bertie.

"He's such a nice boy, Lady Carfax. He can do almost anything. I'm sure you'll like him!"

Dot laughed and protested. "He isn't a bit nice, and he isn't clever either, though he thinks he is. I don't believe he learns anything with Dad. They study natural history most of the time."

"Harmless, anyway!" commented Nap, with a sneer.

"Yes, quite harmless," a.s.sented Bertie, looking straight at him.

"And very interesting, no doubt," said Lady Carfax, turning towards her mount.

Ralph moved to a.s.sist her, but Nap pushed before him. "My job, I think,"

he drawled, with that in his face which made the English youth draw sullenly back.

"Cad!" whispered Dot fiercely.

And Bertie from his perch above her laughed through clenched teeth.

In a few minutes more the hunt was off. The whole crowd streamed briskly away, hounds leading, horses, motors, carriages, and the usual swarm of pedestrians, following in promiscuous array.

The sun shone through a mist. The weather was perfect for hunting, but looked as if it might end in rain.

Sir Giles rode with the master. He seemed in better spirits than usual.

His customary scowl had lifted.

His wife rode nearer the end of the procession with Nap Errol next to her. His brother was immediately behind them, a very decided frown on his boyish face, a frown of which in some occult fashion Nap must have been aware, for as they reached a stretch of turf and the crowd widened out, he turned in the saddle.

"Get on ahead, Bertie! I can't stand you riding at my heels."

Bertie looked at him as if he had a retort ready, but he did not utter it. With tightened lips he rode past and shot ahead.

Nap smiled a little. "That young puppy is the best of the Errol bunch,"

he said. "But he hasn't been licked enough. It's not my fault. It's my brother's."

"He looks a nice boy," Anne said.

Nap's smile became supercilious. "He is a nice boy, Lady Carfax. But nice boys don't always make nice men, you know. They turn into prigs sometimes."

Anne diverted the subject with an instinctive feeling that it was one upon which they might not agree.

"There is a considerable difference between you?" she asked.

"Eight years," said Nap. "I am thirty, Lucas five years older. Most people take me for the eldest of the lot."

"I wonder why?" said Anne.