"Oh, I can hold her. She has a good mouth and perfect temper; she never
ran away from me but once," said Bessie, caressing her old favorite with
voice and hand.
"And what happened on that occasion?" said Mr. Cecil Burleigh.
"She had her fling, and nothing happened. It was along the road that
skirts the Brook pastures, and at the sharp turn Mr. Harry Musgrave saw
her coming--head down, the bit in her teeth--and threw open the gate,
and we dashed into the clover. As I did not lose my nerve or tumble off,
I am never afraid now. I love a good gallop."
Mr. Cecil Burleigh asked no more questions. If it be true that out of
the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh, Brook and Mr. Harry
Musgrave must have been much in Miss Fairfax's thoughts; this was now
the third time that she had found occasion to mention them since coming
to breakfast.
Lady Latimer turned in-doors again with a preoccupied air. Bessie had
looked behind her as she rode down the avenue, as if she were bidding
them good-bye. Mr. Cecil Burleigh was silent too. He had come to
Fairfield with certain lively hopes and expectations, for which my lady
was mainly responsible, and already he was experiencing sensations of
blankness worse to bear than disappointment. Others might be perplexed
as to Miss Fairfax's sentiments, but to him they were clear as the
day--friendly, but nothing more. She was now where she would be, was
exuberantly contented, and could not hide how slight a tie upon her had
been established by a year amongst her kindred in Woldshire.
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