To my shame I awoke in the early morning at Riversley, forgetful of my father's old appointment for the great Dipwell feast.

Not long after sunrise, when blackbirds peck the lawns, and swallows are out from under eaves to the flood's face, I was hailed by Janet Ilchester beneath my open windows.

I knew she had a bet with the squire that she would be the first to hail me legal man, and was prepared for it.

She sat on horseback alone in the hazy dewy Midsummer morning, giving clear note: 'Whoop! Harry Richmond! halloo!' To which I tossed her a fox's brush, having a jewelled bracelet pendant.

She missed it and let it lie, and laughed.
'No, no; it's foxie himself!--anybody may have the brush.