startled us, and cut short my speech: he galloped up quickly.
“Well, you young people—you left me all behind. I suppose you’ve been talking over the run. Eh! Miss Keith?”
“Y—es we have,” she replied.
Danvers seemed to have doubts as to the truth of this, and, perhaps, would have proceeded to confuse us both by a cross-examination; but the conversation was interrupted by the sudden fall of Miss Keith’s horse, whether from some weakness of the legs, or from a stumble over one of the round pebbles with which the road was mended, I could not determine.
Unprepared for such a mishap, she fell from her saddle, and lay upon the road, as I feared much hurt. Her horse, after a violent struggle, rose to its feet, and set off at full gallop towards home.
In a moment I was off my horse, and found the young lady in some pain from her fall, but not seriously hurt. Assisting her to rise, I led her to a gate close at hand, and while she leaned against it, went to a neighbouring brook and returned with my felt hat filled with water, in which she bathed her hands. Her gloves were cut through, and some particles of gravel had been forced beneath the grazed skin of one of the palms of her hands.
“I am so much obliged to you, Mr. Templar; I feel all right again now,” she said; “but where is my horse?”
“Very near to Mr. Danvers’ stable, I expect, by this time,” I answered.
“Oh, dear! what will papa think if he sees the horse? How frightened he will be!”
“That’s just what I’m thinking of, Miss Keith,” said Danvers, “and, as I am sure Mr. Templar will look well to you, I think I’d better ride on quickly, and tell Mr. Keith and all inquiring friends that there is no greater damage done than the rasping of those pretty hands, to say nothing of the torn habit and gloves.”
“I’ll take care of Miss Keith. Do ride on, Danvers, there’s a good fellow,” I said.
“Very well, I don’t doubt you’ll do your best to look after the forlorn Diana—I’ll push on.” And off he rode.
“Will you take my arm, Miss Keith, or will you sit on my horse; he is very quiet now, after his long run with such a weight on his back.”
“Thank you, I think I can walk.”
She gathered up her habit, and, taking my arm, we left the scene of this mishap. I led Rover with my spare hand, but before we had proceeded many yards, it was evident that walking was painful and difficult to my companion, and I again suggested that she should mount my horse.
“Well, I think I will,” she said; and, placing her foot in my hand, I lifted her gently on to the saddle. She gathered the reins tightly to steady herself, and we proceeded at a walking pace.
“I don’t mind my tumble at all, now that I know papa will not be alarmed—though it spoils the successful appearance of our run; does it not, Mr. Templar?”
“Are you sure you are not hurt?”
“Oh, not at all, I feel no pain whatever now, Rover’s pace is so easy, and this saddle so comfortable. We have had a very agreeable day, taking it altogether. Don’t you think so?”
“Rather too pleasant. I am only so sorry it must have an end.”
“Now don’t begin to talk nonsense again, Mr. Templar, or I shall be obliged, at the risk of my life, to whip Rover into running away from you.”
“Miss Keith,” I said, laying my hand near to hers upon the saddle, “I cannot hide my feelings as successfully as you do the effects of a fall. It seems to me, now, as if I were counting the hours of my life by those which yet remain to me in your company. If I might carry away with me the knowledge that you, whom I love best on earth, felt some love for me—that while the memory of you will be with me always, I should be remembered by you; if I might think it not vain to hope that, some day, you would endow me with the right to be your guardian and protector, I should think myself the happiest—the most enviable of men.”
She was looking down while I spoke with a soft and grave expression on her face, and as I took her hand, unresisted, and kissed it, she blushed deeply, gently withdrawing it from mine.
“Let me, dearest Miss Keith, hear my sentence. Will you, can you ever love me?”
I touched Rover’s neck, and he stood still as if he were also interested in her answer. She raised her eyes, and, with a look of shy happiness, laid her hand in mine,—a free and loving gift I would not exchange for any conceivable possession.
Our hearts were too full to talk much during the short distance which remained. But I learned enough to make me not only happy but secure in my love, and—as I assisted her to dismount before we reached the house—sealed my engagement in the pleasantest manner possible.
Miss Keith’s horse had arrived at the stables slightly lame, but otherwise uninjured; and we received the congratulations of our friends upon our success in the hunting-field. Miss Keith was a general favourite, and every one was delighted to find her unhurt by her fall.
So “my first run” ended. I have followed hounds several times since, but never with so much pleasure. Our engagement has been ratified by the ready consent of our respective friends, and my happiness seems to date from an occasion which I hope is not entirely devoid of interest to the reader.
NOTES ABOUT EELS.
I question much if, amongst all the countless inhabitants of both fresh and salt water, there be one so universally popular—and yet of whose natural history so little is known—as the eel, and that certainly not for lack of materials of interest, inasmuch as there are few fish (for I suppose I must term it a fish) about which so much can be said, and so much has still to be learnt.
There are many varieties of the eel known in this country, as well as several foreign ones
