saddle, and Lucy put her skirts in order. The pony was small for her, but she was light, and the little beast began capering in a playful way, as if quite unconscious of being burdened. He trotted down the centre walk, and cocked his ears at the little gate. Dina encouraged him and he cleared it easily. He was now on the common, and an inspiring sea breeze blew aside his forelock. He sniffed the briny air with evident delight, and indulged in some manœuvres intended to display his willingness to gallop. The lady encouraged him again, and immediately he was at full speed on the sandy knolls, where the whin bushes would have made. sad work with the rider's skirts had she worn a habit. Dina gave him his head freely. Nothing seemed more to his mind than to go as fast as he could, and he flew over the bent almost in a straight line, taking every bush of unusual size at a flying leap. The lady, who enjoyed his pace intensely, let him go till she felt that he was beginning to flag. She then checked him, and wheeled him round. He obeyed her hand readily, and returned at a walk, until Dina, thinking him sufficiently refreshed, put him into a trot on the hardest part of the waste. His trot seemed easy, and she gave him a hint to display his canter, which, strange to say, proved nearly as good. She patted his white neck, and smiled on Malcom when she reached the gate, whence he and Miss Pentonville had watched her ride.

"He is very docile," she said. “I won der, though, if he likes the sea?"

She turned his head towards the little pier, and trotted down the seaward lane. Her sister and the old groom followed as far as a hillock of sand a little beyond the gate. They saw her ride briskly down to the beach.

The tide was coming in before a breeze, and the waves rushed up the sands, following each other in such quick order that each, on retiring, was caught up by its successor and urged back upon its first track. The lady left the pony quite to his own will, and he walked straight to the sea, considered it with his ears advanced, snorted, and then backed to avoid a wave. In a little he went forward of his own accord again, and let the waves run among his feet, putting down his nose to them as they flowed clear round his hoofs. Dina now tucked up her dress as much as was practicable, and, taking command of the pony's head, trotted him into the water till it was a foot deep, then she wheeled him to the right, and made him scamper along the shore among the waves. He was quite gay, and jumped about and pawed the water whenever he got a hint that that would be acceptable. Dina, much pleased, and as if to reward him with a warming run, presently guided him on to the dry beach, and shook his bridle. Off he went on the smooth, tide-flattened sand. One might have thought he had run away, but Dina knew his character now, and let him go with confidence, though her hat ribbons warned her of his pace by almost cutting her ears, so sharply did they touch her as they streamed in the current of air. This time she did not allow him to go straight on till he wearied, but at a moderate distance she turned him and galloped back at the same tearing pace, till she approached the pier. Thence she trotted up the cottage path and rejoined her sister.

"We are greatly obliged to you, Malcom: both his temper and his paces are capital," she said.

Malcom doffed his cap to express his satisfaction, and then with a look of modest triumph led off the

pony to the stable. He was a sensible old chap, and never spoilt a compliment by grinning too widely at it.

Dina's beauty was dazzling when she took Lucy's arm, and the sisters slowly moved along the shelly sand of the garden walk. Her hair was a little loosened by the breeze, and strayed about her neck in bright amber waifs. It looked far richer now than it had looked in the pale moonshine. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and her cheeks shone with unwonted warmth. Nothing could be finer in its way than her face when in her sad hours, it was colourless and grave; but thus in animation, its beauty carried you by storm: features, colour, and expression combining to bewilder you by their exquisite loveliness.

How happy our darling will be when he finds such a pony provided for him! Oh, I shall teach him how much he has to thank his Aunt Lucy for; and I'll never feel jealous, Lucy, never!"

Lucy looked with sisterly pride at the happy enthusiast beside her; but she contented herself by saying, "I think, dear, we should go in to breakfast now."

CHAPTER XXX.

MR. GRANGE had risen nearly as early as the ladies of Oden Cottage, and while they were employed in the manner I have described, he was occupied in a survey of his farm. Towards nine o'clock he found himself at home again. The breakfast party had not yet assembled, and he was fain to loiter about the south lawn. walks to while away the minutes. The atmosphere had been thoroughly purified by the storm which proved itself so mischievous at Beechworth, and from a sky partially strewn with flaky clouds the sun shone unobscured. A gravel walk surrounded the south lawn, which was about the size of a large bowling-green. Beyond it was a paddock, at present full of hay-ricks. It was from the latter that the light-hearted lunch party had obtained the means of burying the gallant little artillery officer. Having looked round to satisfy himself that there was no one waiting for him in the dining-room, Mr. Grange presently stepped over the paddock-fence, and taking up a fork proceeded in a workmanlike manner to turn the hay. It was pleasant to see him do so. He had hung his white hat on a post, and his glossy, bald and massive head glittered in the sunshine, which at this hour was genially warm without being dangerously hot. His smoothly shaven

and blooming cheeks looked as fresh and ruddy as wellsunned apples. His handsome features were animated, and his spectacles blinked and dazzled as he moved his head in the light. He wore a suit of grey tweeds, and his jovial person was set off to advantage by their light colour. He had taken off a pair of brown leather gaiters which he made it a point to wear when out on the farm, and without which he never felt himself a match for his intelligent steward, and at every step he took among the hay his shoes lost some of the mud they had gathered in the fields. He was still a strong man, and the fork looked very light in his hands as he picked up heaps of hay and scattered them thinly over the grass. "Good fun, isn't it, uncle ?" said a voice behind him, before he had worked long enough to get overheated.

66

Ha, Sunbeam, are you there? I thought no one had arrived," he exclaimed, tossing his fork away as he turned and saw Mary Melville leaning coolly on the fence.

"Bracy and Mr. Drycale are somewhere. I left them to shift for themselves while I popped out here to fetch you. We heard all about Captain Calvert's adventure. from Janet your maid, who was down at the Dingle last evening. What a stunning fellow he is, uncle! Don't you think he's a brick ?"

Mr. Grange chucked the young lady under the chin, and his eyes smiled upon her through his spectacles. Then he politely offered her his arm and marched her off towards the house.

"It was with the utmost difficulty I kept Bracy at home last night," Mary resumed. "She wanted me to drive her up in the dark to see the hero as soon as Janet had told her story-which had marvels enough