36 The Real Charlotte. 



" Look here, Francie," he said at last, with something of 

 asperity, *' it's all very fine to humbug now, but if you don't 

 take care you'll find yourself in the county court some fine 

 day. It's easier to get there than you'd think," he added 

 gloomily, " and then there'll be the devil to pay, and 

 nothing to pay him with ; and what'll you do then ? " 



" I'll send for you to come and bail me out ! " replied 

 Francie without hesitation, giving an unconsidered whack 

 behind the saddle as she spoke. The black mare at once 

 showed her sense of the liberty by kicking up her heels in a 

 manner that lifted Francie a hand's-breadth from her seat, 

 and shook her foot out of the stirrup. " Gracious ! " she 

 gasped, when she had sufficiently recovered herself to 

 speak; " what did he do? Did he buck-jump? Oh, Mr. 

 Lambert — " as the mare, satisfied with her protest, broke 

 into a sharp trot, " do stop him ; I can't get my foot into the 

 stirrup ! " 



Lambert, trotting serenely beside her on his tall chestnut, 

 watched her precarious bumpings for a minute or two with 

 a grin, then he stretched out a capable hand, and pulled the 

 mare into a walk. 



** Now, where would you be without me ? " he inquired. 



"Sitting on the road," replied Francie. "I never felt 

 such a horrid rough thing — and look at Mrs. Lambert look- 

 ing at me over the wall ! Weren't you a cad that you 

 wouldn't stop him before ? " 



In the matter of exercise, Mrs. Lambert was one of those 

 people who want but little here below, nor want that little 

 long. The tour of the two acres that formed the demesne 

 of Rosemount was generally her limit, and any spare energy 

 that remained to ner after that perambulation was spent in 

 taking weeds out of the garden path with a lady-like cane- 

 handled spud. This implement was now in her gauntletted 

 hand, and she waved it feebly to the riders as they passed, 

 while Muffy stood in front of her and barked with asthma- 

 tic fury. 



" Make Miss Fitzpatrick come in to tea on her way home, 

 Roderick," she called, looking admiringly at the girl with 

 kind eyes that held no spark of jealousy of her beauty and 

 youth. Mrs. Lambert was one of the women who sink pre- 

 maturely and unresistingly into the sloughs of middle-age. 



