ay, under the rule of patient but relentless efficiency. It was
far into June when, having backed without serious misadventures two or
three well-broken horses, Penhallow mounted him on Leila's mare, Lucy,
and set out to ride with him.

"Let us ride to the mills, John." The mare was perfectly gaited and easy.
They rode on, talking horses.

"You will have to manage the mills some day," said Penhallow. "You own
quite a fifth of them. Now I have three partners, but some day you and I
will run them." The boy had been there before with Rivers, but now the
Squire presented him to the foreman and as they moved about explained the
machinery. It was altogether delightful, and this was a newly discovered
uncle. On the way home the Squire talked of the momentous November
elections and of his dread of the future with Buchanan in power, while he
led the way through lanes and woods until they came to the farm.

"We will cross the fields," he said, and dismounting took down the upper
bars of a fence. Then he rode back a little, and returning took the low
fence, crying, "Now, John, sit like a sack--loosely. The mare jumps like
a frog; go back a bit. Now, then, give her her head!" For a moment he was
in the air as his uncle cried, "You lost a stirrup. Try it again. Oh!
that was better. Now, once more, come," and he was over at Penhallow's
side. He had found the joy of the horse! "A bit more confidence and
practice and you will do. I want you to ride Venus. She shies at a
shadow--at anything black. Don't forget that."

"Oh, thank you, Uncle James!"

"It is Uncle Jim now, my boy. I knew from the first you would come out
all right. I believe in blood--horses and men. I believe in blood." This
was James Penhallow all over. A reticent man, almost as tenderly trustful
as a woman, of those who came up to his standards of honour, truth and
the courage which rightly seemed to him the backbone of all the virtues.

What John thought may be readily imagined. Accustomed to be considered
and flattered, his uncle's quiet reserve had seemed to him disappointing,
and now of late this abrupt praise and accepting comradeship left the
sensitive lad too grateful for words. The man at his side was wise enough
to say no more, and they rode home and dismounted without further speech.

After dinner John sought a corner with Leila, where he could share with
her his new-born enthusiasm about horses. The Squire called to the rector
and Mrs. Ann to come into