ut me."

"Nay, you don't, Jenny. You know better. Man's love for a hoss ain't
the same as what he feels for his sweetheart. You know that. But a
chap of the right sort as understands 'osses can't help loving the
beautiful pets. I don't mind yer laughing at me. I quite cried when
our La Sylphide was knocked down and I had to say good-bye to her. I
don't know what I should ha' done if I hadn't known she was going into
good quarters with someone who'd love her. All right! It's gallus
weak, I suppose, but I did, and you may laugh."

"I wasn't laughing, Mark," said the girl, holding out her hand. "I was
only smiling at you. I like it. Shows your 'art's in the right place."

"Jenny!" And "business," as theatrical people say.

"Now, don't, Mark. That'll do. Suppose Sir Hilton was to come?"

"Let him," said the groom, sharply. "I ain't ashamed of loving the
dearest, sweetest little lass in the country, though she has got a sharp
tongue that goes through me sometimes like a knife."

"All the better for you, Master Mark. You want talking-to, for you've
been a deal too wild."

"Nay, nay, nay, Jenny; 'ossy, but never wild."

"Let's see," said Jane, going on giving touches to the breakfast-table.
"But stop a minute. What do you want here? Her ladyship wouldn't like
it if she caught you."

"Ain't she gone out?"

"Oh, yes, I forgot. Well, Sir Hilton'll be down directly, and he'll ask
you why you've come."

"No, he won't. I shall have first word."

"What do you mean?"

"Ask him if he wouldn't like the 'orse put in the dogcart to run over to
Tilborough."

"What for?"

"To see the race, my gal."

"What!"

"Our old mare La Sylphide's going to run."

"Our old mare indeed! Go to the race! Why, there'd be a regular
eruption."

"So there would; but I do wish the guv'nor would risk it this once."

"He'd better! So that was the reason you come here, was it?"

"Well, partly, Jenny. You see, I thought I might get a minute with you
alone."

"I don't believe it," said Jane, frowning, but with eyes looking very
bright. "You pretend and pretend, and yet all the time you're sneaking
off every chance you get over to Oakland."

"Well, I do, my lass; I own to that."

"There," cried the girl, "and yet you have the impidence to talk to me."

"Of course, you know why I go."

"Yes; to see that showy lady's maid that comes over to our church
sometimes."

"Tchah! I go over to the stables to have a