Chapter XVI. A Riding Party—Head Over Heels.

The morning after the dance described in the last chapter did not find us up with the lark, but in due time we collected together in the breakfast-room. There appeared to be different opinions about the evening's enjoyment, although, with the exception of perhaps uncle's and mine, they were all especially favorable. Fanny remarked that it was without exception the most enjoyable dance she had ever attended. Didn't I agree with her?

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‘I don't care much for dances as a rule,’ I replied, ‘and this being the first at which I have been present in the colonies, I cannot judge whether it was more enjoyable than usual.’

‘I am ashamed of you, Melton,’ put in Grosvenor. ‘For my part I think they do these things to perfection in New Zealand. I shall write home, Miss Melton,’ turning to Fanny, ‘and describe this one to my mother, and she will be delighted to copy it, and introduce something after this jolly, free and easy style amongst the aristocracy. Their balls are not a patch on yours. They bore one dreadfully, so stiff and coldly formal.’

‘I think all balls are unbearable,’ grumbled uncle, in an undertone to Alice.

‘Oh, papa, I can't think how you can say so. I enjoyed myself immensely.’

‘I don't doubt it, my dear. I was watching you. Young Sylvester is a nice boy, isn't he?’

A deep blush was Alice's only answer, but it appeared to give her father much satisfaction, for he quite cheered up after witnessing it, and was heard afterwards to admit that ‘parties of this sort were grand for boys and girls. Bring young people together, you know.’

Our host and hostess gave out at the conclusion of the morning meal that, unless any of their guests could prove that they had business elsewhere requiring strict attention, not a soul was on any account to leave on that day on pain of their dire displeasure.

Uncle and Mr Bowden were the only two who could show cause why their presence at their respective homes was imperative. The former endeavoured to explain that he could not do without my assistance, and I was about to leave with him; but our good friends would not hear of it, and laughed at his protestations that I could not be spared.

‘You're too rough on the young one altogether, Melton. He's not going to leave here to-day, so it is no good you saying another word about it.’

We spent the morning sauntering about the garden and grounds. To my astonishment Fanny favoured me with a short těte-a-těte.

‘Oh, Frank, I hope you weren't very vexed with me for not having that dance with you! But I am afraid you were, or you would not have refused the one I offered you, or were you really too tired?’

‘You need hardly ask, I should think, whether I was annoyed. Who wouldn't be, when you gave a comparative stranger so many dances, that you had only one at the end of your programme for your cousin and pupil.’

‘But I did not dance them all with Mr Grosvenor, as you seem to think,’ she replied, with vexation. ‘I had two with young Sylvester, and some with Mr Bowden and several others.’

‘Yes, my dear, I'll admit that, but it was not your dancing with them that put me out. It was your giving so much of your time to Grosvenor, a fellow of whom no one knows anything for certain; and who behaved in such a cowardly manner on the voyage that hardly one of the passengers would speak to him afterwards.’

The words were barely out of my mouth before I saw the mistake I had made. To run a favoured rival down to the lady who loves him is the last thing one should do if one wishes to retain her good-will. I had meant it in all kindness, and hoped to be able to prove my own love for her by my solicitude, but I erred grievously.

‘Frank, are you not ashamed of yourself!’ she replied, with flashing page 67 eyes. ‘I did not expect such mean conduct from you! Because you have a passing fancy for me, you must needs abuse a gentleman, who at all events is your superior both in birth and breeding.’

‘Passing fancy!’ I exclaimed, overlooking her vehemence, ‘believe me, it is no passing fancy, my dearest. I love you as I shall never love another with the deep, true love of, at all events, an honest heart.’

This unlucky word again touched her to the quick.

‘And do you mean to insinuate that Mr Grosvenor's is not an honest heart?’

‘No, I did not mean to say that. But I very much doubt if there's anything honest about him.’

‘Frank, how dare you, of all men, talk like that? He, fortunately, told me of your shameful flirtations with that poor Miss Robinson, whom you never mentioned, and no wonder. Go back to her, and never talk of love to me again, for I am as good as engaged to Mr Grosvenor, and even if I wasn't I should not dream of allowing a weathercock like you to make love to me.’

‘Did not Mr Grosvenor tell you of his own flirtations with the same lady, and how she wouldn't look at him when she found out what a miserable cur he was?’ I asked, indignantly.

‘I will listen to no more of your base falsehoods and insinuations,’ she answered, hotly. ‘Unhand me, sir!’ (in my efforts to detain her and make her hear what I had to say I had grasped her hand). ‘The man you asperse at all events behaves like a gentleman, and doesn't tell lies.’ With this parting shot she turned sharply away. Her magnificent air of offended dignity, her heightened colour, her flashing eyes and swelling bosom, made me if possible more madly in love with her than ever. I watched her stately step down the garden path, and saw her join my detested rival, and from the way they looked in my direction I could guess the subject of their conversation. I felt with bitter annoyance that I had made things ten times worse by my efforts at amelioration. Why should I always blunder so abominably? How was it that I could not attain the happy address and consummate pleasing manner which a scoundrel like Grosvenor appeared to possess, judging from his success with the ladies? Why would Fanny persist in believing everything he told her, and yet imagine all I said false? It is needless to ask, for have not the eyes of love, or even temporary infatuation, a microscopic power of beholding virtue in the object of their adoration, and the reverse in anyone who is antagonistic to it.

Fanny had termed my feeling for her a passing fancy. ‘Would to God it had been a passing fancy, that I could have cast it aside,’ I thought in my misery. These fits of deepest despondency, however, never continued very long with me. I had a tendency to try and make the best of things, and on a riding party being proposed in the afternoon to see a bit of noted bush scenery comprising a noble waterfall, I was as eager to go as anyone. We were soon busy running the horses in, and hunting up the right saddles and bridles, and after animated discussions as to which animals we should ride—as several of the gentlemen were anxious for their respective lady friends to try some wonderful new hack they had lately purchased, or broken in, and which carried a side saddle to perfection—we were mounted and off. Grosvenor, of course, rode at Fanny's side. He had made a lamentable exhibition of himself when he attempted to put her on her horse. He gave some ridiculous excuse for his failure, page 68 yet notwithstanding his assertions that he often assisted Lady So-and-so to mount when she hunted with his father's hounds, I very much doubted whether he had ever seen a lady mounted in his life.

I noticed Charlie and young Sylvester laughing immoderately over some joke, as we cantered down the paddock from the house, and on passing, the former whispered, ‘Look out for my noble Grosvenor when we come to the water-jump.’

It was a glorious afternoon, and Mrs Fortesene's brilliant conversation and the bounding stride of my horse had made me almost forget my troubles. Fanny and her adored were cantering down a fernclad slope some distance in front of us. She was, of course, an accomplished horsewoman, and thoroughly enjoyed a good water-jump. Her horse was an adept at it, and much preferred it to hurdles or timber.

‘Don't let us cross at the ford. Follow me, and we'll get out of the crowd,’ she cried gaily to her cavalier. ‘You're not frightened at a few feet of water, are you?’

‘Never fear, Miss Melton. I'll follow where you lead, or die in the attempt.’

She turned her horse found to the left, and started him at a fair pace for a place where the banks of, what had been higher up, a broad, black, swampy stream, narrowed sufficiently to make it practicable for a good horse to negotiate it. At a hint from Charlie that there might be some fun going, we followed them smartly. Grosvenor made some demur when he saw the dimensions, and the ugly look of the obstacle he was called on to tackle.

‘Now, show us how you can ride!’ shouted Charlie. ‘You talk enough about it.’

This jeer and the laughter which accompanied it decided him. He must attempt it, though sorely against his will.

Fanny's horse took it beautifully in his stride with several feet to apare. She then halted, and naturally turned to see how her admirer's steed would negotiate it. He came at it whipping and spurring furiously, and the horse would undoubtedly have cleared it, for though very frightened of water as a rule, he had a far greater fear of the punishment he was receiving, and was ready to go at anything, but just as he approached the bank Grosvenor's heart failed him, a deadly fear came over him, and he gave the curb a sharp pull, which caused the horse to throw himself back on his haunches, throwing the rider on his neck in a most undignified position. Finding he could not regain his seat, he had to swing himself off, just saving a fall by frantically embracing the animal's neck. We all screamed with laughter, Charlie loudest of all.

‘Is that the way you followed your father's hounds?’ shouted the mischievous young scamp. ‘Why, I could ride better than that at six years old!’

Grosvenor was in a fury, and began to punish the horse, saying it was his fault.

Cries of ‘For shame!’ ‘You checked him yourself!’ ‘Put him at it again and don't use the curb!’ ‘Don't be beaten, old man!’ etc., etc., made him forget his fear, or rather made the greater fear of ridicule overcome the lesser one, and he remounted the frightened animal with considerable difficulty, and rode him at it again, thrashing the poor brute more savagely this time. The animal had his temper thoroughly up now, and no wonder, and expecting the sharp pull of the curb, forestalled it by propping short a few feet from the brink. page 69 The rider this time shot clean over his head into the black water. The only portions of him visible for the moment were the spurred heels of a neat pair of riding boots, and the tails of a ridiculously long black coat, a garment which looked extremely out of place in the saddle, but which he fancied quite in accord with the remainder of his faultless get-up.

After wriggling about like an immense eel in the muddy bottom of the turbid stream, his head appeared again on the surface of the water, and his most devoted lady admirers would not have recognised their curled and scented darling in the half-drowned, draggled individual we now saw before us, spitting volumes of mud and water from his mouth, which in his terror he had neglected to close, and vainly endeavouring to find his handkerchief in his drenched tail pockets. His feet, in his efforts to get out, sank deeper into the treacherous mud; his curls, of which he had been so proud, were straightened and limp; the scent he had purchased at the hairdresser's was hopelessly overpowered by that which he had obtained gratis from the decomposed vegetable slime still adhering to him. None of us hurried to assist him out. The gentlemen were all convulsed with laughter, in which many of the ladies joined, excepting only, of course, those who worshipped the dear boy. At last young Sylvester and Charlie dismounted, and grasping his hands, with a long pull and a strong pull managed to land him safely. I have no hesitation in affirming that his first words on landing, notwithstanding the presence of ladies, sounded extremely like oaths, and they were directed principally at his horse, who was coolly availing himself of the opportunity he had acquired by enjoying a bite of the luxuriant herbage around. Going up to him, the drenched man vented his temper on the unoffending animal by again administering some smart blows.

‘It's no good abusing the horse. It was the way you bullied and checked him the first time that made him baulk,’ I cried.

‘For shame, Mr Grosvenor! Frank was right. It was your bad riding, not the horse, that was to blame. I will not have him thrashed!’ exclaimed Fanny, indignantly. ‘You'd better return at once and get a change of clothes, or you'll catch cold,’ she continued more calmly, as Grosvenor, awed by her peremptory tones and flashing eyes, desisted.

‘Oh, that won't be necessary, Miss Melton. The sun will soon dry them. I would not lose a day's ride with you for such a paltry consideration.’

‘But consider the unpleasantness, Mr Grosvenor.’

‘I don't think anything of that, I assure you, Miss Melton.’

‘Ah, but I do,' she returned.

‘I should think you did, Fanny,’ put in the irrepressible Charlie, purposely misunderstanding her, and making a great show of holding his nose as the gentle breeze wafted the swampy perfume from Grosvenor's miry garments. ‘Not a pleasant companion, by any means. A pole-cat would be a treat to him.’

‘Charlie, I am ashamed of you!’ exclaimed Fanny. ‘Never mind him, Mr Grosvenor. He doesn't know any better. Go home at once and get changed. Charlie shall accompany you, and guide you to us afterwards. Frank will take care of me.’

Indignantly declining the proffered company, and scowling unpleasantly at the rest of the party, who were vainly endeavouring to restrain their intense amusement, he galloped off, and we saw him no more till our return.