smile at the absurd figure they cut when emerging from the thorny thicket into which they had been precipitated; their faces scratched and bleeding,-their green veils torn into shreds; while the pony stood trembling and panting, effectually tamed by the incumbrance of the overturned chaise at its heels.

To conceal the inopportune hilarity of my countenance, I was glad to turn away and fasten my horse to a neighbouring holly tree, ere I proceeded to offer my services towards the re-instatement of ladies, chaise, and pony, in their proper juxta-position.

This was easy enough; for the chaise was as light as it becomes a pony chaise to be. But, during the process, I discovered that there were tears as well as blood upon the cheeks of my new acquaintances. I could stand the scratches, -I could not stand the tears. I now began to be sorry for them in right earnest. Besides, a fit of hysterics would have been tremendous in the thick of the forest, without so much as a

green ditch at hand; and I had no mind to convert my André into a Goffredo's helmet, for the benefit of a Clorinda,-name unknown.

However, they thought better of it, and did not faint; but simply expressed to each other their determination not to entrust themselves again to the recreant pony to return home. I say "SIMPLY expressed" advisedly; for they spoke with such lady-like simplicity, that I felt I had done wrong in undervaluing them; and, accordingly, put a great deal of Cecil Danby into my offers of further service.

On my entreating them to let me fetch a person from the nearest gate, who would undertake to convey home their carriage and take charge of my horse, while I became their escort, they complied with the good sense which makes submission to a necessity appear an act of grace.

It was not till I returned from the lodge with one of the under-keepers, who, knowing me to be one of the household, was as obsequious as a page in waiting, that I made enquiry of my fair

friends touching the "home" to which chaise, pony, and selves were to be transported ;-when it appeared that they resided at Sunning Hill; and that, even to persons acquainted with the cross-cuts of the forest, we had a three-miles march before us!—

I have said that the weather was not so sultry as to make exertion objectionable, yet I confess my prospects staggered me. Moreover, it was so late in the afternoon, that gallop back as I might, my credit for punctuality, the politeness of Kings, but the duty of Kings' guests, was in considerable danger. I was at all times a reluctant pedestrian. I hated walking, and my boots hated walking. However, I was in for it. There was no choice. Besides, a walk in the

forest with two anonymous ladies, had at least the charm of novelty; and

est natura hominum novitatis avida.

Off we set, therefore; pausing a few minutes at the lodge to purify the faces of my compa

nions, and refresh their spirits by a little cold water externally and internally distributed; and a right curious predicament we stood in,-for by the obsequiousness of the lodge-keepers, they saw clearly that their unknown champion was somebody,-perhaps a nobleman-perhaps a prince; while I had reason to opine that they were nobody, for the name of Silwood Cottage seemed altogether new and strange to the keeper of our King's deer, who might be supposed to know something of the notabilities of the neighbourhood. But, at all events, they were charming nobodies. Their faces, after ablution, proved to be just the sort of faces that tempt one to look and look again, from the certainty of never finding them in statu quo;endless variation of bloom-unceasing changes of expression. Both were dark-haired,—both brunettes; but the eyes of one were sleepy brown, the other variable grey :—they were "alike-but oh! how different."

For the first half mile, I was desperately in

love with the sparkler; for the next mile and a half, with the more languid beauty. For half a mile to come, I could hardly say with which; and for all that remained of our walk, very decidedly with both.

By this time, too, I had discovered that my soft beauty was called Annie, and my bright one Soph,-to abbreviate Sophia, as I then supposed; though it afterwards turned out to be Sophronia.

But what else?-Miss, or Madam, or my Lady? Were they married or single?-maids, wives, or widows?-How was I to guess?—I could not ask them; and all my hints and guesses on the subject proved to little purpose.

It was, as I have said, October,—the very season for a walk to such as delight in such efforts. The skies were bright, yet the sunshine was tempered by such freshness in the air, as rendered it exciting rather than oppressive. The grass was elastic,-the foliage varied as if touched up by Turner in one of his parox