orne--such a horsewoman you know--why, you know, Lady
Scatcherd, it's positively ridiculous; d---- absurd, you know."

And then, with an angry look at his mother, he mounted his horse, and
was soon leading the way down the avenue.

"Miss Thorne," said he, pulling himself up at the gate, "if I had
known that I was to be so extremely happy as to have found you here,
I would have brought you down the most beautiful creature, an Arab.
She belongs to my friend Jenkins; but I wouldn't have stood at any
price in getting her for you. By Jove! if you were on that mare, I'd
back you, for style and appearance, against anything in Hyde Park."

The offer of this sporting wager, which naturally would have been
very gratifying to Mary, was lost upon her, for Sir Louis had again
unwittingly got on in advance, but he stopped himself in time to hear
Mary again declare her passion was a donkey.

"If you could only see Jenkins's little mare, Miss Thorne! Only say
one word, and she shall be down here before the week's end. Price
shall be no obstacle--none whatever. By Jove, what a pair you would
be!"

This generous offer was repeated four or five times; but on each
occasion Mary only half heard what was said, and on each occasion the
baronet was far too much in advance to hear Mary's reply. At last he
recollected that he wanted to call on one of the tenants, and begged
his companion to allow him to ride on.

"If you at all dislike being left alone, you know--"

"Oh dear no, not at all, Sir Louis. I am quite used to it."

"Because I don't care about it, you know; only I can't make this
horse walk the same pace as that brute."

"You mustn't abuse my pet, Sir Louis."

"It's a d---- shame on my mother's part;" said Sir Louis, who, even
when in his best behaviour, could not quite give up his ordinary mode
of conversation. "When she was fortunate enough to get such a girl as
you to come and stay with her, she ought to have had something proper
for her to ride upon; but I'll look to it as soon as I am a little
stronger, you see if I don't;" and, so saying, Sir Louis trotted off,
leaving Mary in peace with her donkey.

Sir Louis had now been living cleanly and forswearing sack for what
was to him a very long period, and his health felt the good effects
of it. No one rejoiced at this more cordially than did the doctor. To
rejoice at it was with him a point of conscience. He could not help
telling himself now and again that, circumstance