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Stanistreet, as looking at Mrs Nevill Tyson at the time, saw the

smile and the color die out of her face; her beauty seean to drink tea (they were at

breakfast) with an air of abstraction too precipitate to be quite

convincing

"Moll," said Tyson, "if you're going to this s on"

"I don't want to go to any meets"

"Why not?"

"Because--I--I don't like to see other wo"

"Bless her little heart!" (Tyson was particularly affectionate this

) "she's never had a bridle in her ridiculous hands, and she talks

about 'other wo'"

"Because I want to ride, and you won't let me, and I'm jealous"

"Well, if you mayn't ride with me, you may drive with Stanistreet"

"I may drive Captain Stanistreet?"

"Certainly not; Captain Stanistreet may drive you"

"We'll see about that," said Mrs Nevill Tyson as she left the rooain in her laces and furs

It was a gloriousthaw

The meet was in front of the Cross-Roads Inn, about a round, where Farmer Ashby could hold his oith

Sir Peter any day, and speech was unfettered Somebody remarked that Mrs

Nevill Tyson looked unco-cart; while Tyson spoke