THE SMUGCcLER, 329 



nounced ; and the master of the house, his sister, and Zara, 

 sat down together. Hardly had the fish and soup made any 

 progress, when the quick canter of Sir Edward Digby's horse 

 put his fair confidante out of her anxiety; and, in a few 

 minutes after, he appeared himself, and apologized gracefully 

 to his host for having been too late. " You must have waited 

 for me, I fear," he added, " for it is near an hour after the 

 time ; but I thought it absolutely necessary, from some circum- 

 stances I heard, to go over and see my colonel before he re- 

 turned to Hythe, and then I was detained." 



"Pray, who does command your regiment?" asked Mrs. 

 Barbara. But Sir Edward Digby was, at that moment, busily 

 engaged in taking his seat by Zara's side, and he did not hear. 

 The lady repeated the question when he was seated ; but then 

 he replied, " No, I thank you, my dear madam, no soup to- 

 day : a solid meal always after a hard ride ; and I have galloped 

 till I have almost broken my horse's wind. By the way, Sir 

 Robert, I hope you found my bay a pleasant goer. I have 

 only ridden him twice since I bought him, though he cost two 

 hundred guineas." 



"He is well worth the money," replied the baronet: "a 

 very powerful animal : bore me like a feather, and I ride a 

 good weight." 



"Have your own horses come back?" asked the young 

 officer, with a laugh. 



Sir Robert Croyland answered in the negative, adding, 

 " And that reminds me I must write to my brother to let 

 Edith have his carriage to-morrow, to bring her back, for mine 

 are gone, coach-horses and all." 



"Edith, to-morrow 1" exclaimed Mrs. Barbara, in surprise; 

 " why, I thought she was going to stay four or five days." 



" She is coming back to-morrow, Bab," replied Sir Robert, 

 sharply, and instantly turned the conversation. 



During the rest of the evening, Sir Edward Digby remained 

 very constantly by fair Zara's side ; and, moreover, he paid her 

 most particular attention in so marked a manner, that both 

 Sir Robert Croyland and Mrs. Barbara thought matters were 

 taking their course very favourably. The father bubied him- 

 self in writing a letter and one or two notes, which he pro- 

 nounced to be of consequence, as, indeed, they really were; 

 while the aunt worked diligently and discreetly at embroider- 



