through undergrowth, and the first whip crashed out of the cover, his
horse stumbling as he landed, but recovering himself cleverly.

"Have they killed?" several voices called.

"No, worse luck--gone to ground," the hunt servant answered, and Dulcie,
close beside me, exclaimed in a tone of exultation:

"Oh, good!"

I had dismounted, loosened my mare's girths, and turned her nose to the
light breeze. Sweat was pouring off her, and she was still blowing hard.

"Shall I unmount you, Dulcie?" I asked.

She nodded, and presently she stood beside me while I attended to her
horse.

"Ah, Mrs. Stapleton!" I heard her exclaim suddenly.

I had loosened the girths of Dulcie's horse, and now I looked up.

Seated upon a black thoroughbred, an exceedingly beautiful young woman
gazed down with flushed face and shining eyes.

It was a rather strange face, all things considered. The features were
irregular, yet small and refined. The eyes were bright and brown--at
least not exactly brown; rather they were the colour of a brilliant
red-brown wallflower, and large and full of expression. Her skin, though
extremely clear, was slightly freckled.