'I want to ride, Mr. Falkirk, I believe I should go with Mr.
Simms--if he were the only chance; and that is saying a good
deal. However, I can throw all the responsibility on you, sir;
that is one comfort.'

'It won't break me,' said Mr. Falkirk; 'that is another. Why
do they all come for you so, this hot weather!'

But she laughed at that, and went off out of the room.

When she came down to the side entrance of Chickaree some hour
or two later, she found her side-saddle going on an Arab-
looking brown mare, and Rollo playing hostler. His own horse
standing by was clearly also a new comer; a light bay, nervous
and fidgety, for he did not keep still one minute; ears,
hoofs, eyes and head were constantly and restlessly shifting.
The brown mare stood still, only lifting her pretty head and
looking as Wych Hazel came out. She ran down the steps.

'I got leave!' she said, gleefully,--'did you?'--then stopped,
surveying operations. 'But was there nobody about the place to
do that but Mr. Rollo?

The quiet negative which answered this covered more ground
than the question. Rollo finished his work carefully, with one
or two looking on; mounted the little lady, and went to his
own horse. Before mounting, here, he seemed to hold some
conversation with the creature; caressed him; stood in front
and spoke to him, patting and stroking his head; then in
another moment was on his back.

There is a great difference in people's riding, as there is in
people's walking; and once in a while, among plenty of good
average walkers and riders, there is one whom it is a pleasure
to see. This man was such a one. He was a perfectly well-made
man, and had the ease and grace in all his movements which
such a build goes far to ensure; when on horseback it seemed
as if he had communicated these qualities to his horse, and
the two moved as one embodiment of ease and grace, with power
superadded. Stuart Nightingale on horseback was a fine
gentleman, perfectly got up, and riding well, but yet a fine
gentleman in the saddle. Major Seaton rode ruggedly, if I may
say so. Mr. May was more at home in his phaeton; others were
more or less stiff and uncertain. But the attitude and action
of Rollo were utter unconscious ease, whatever form of action
his horse might take. So it was now. For a few minutes his
restless animal moved in all sorts of eccentric ways; but
where most men would have been a little awkward and many very
miserable, his rider w