ck sheep, I 'd have been pretty much like the rest
of the flock."

The speculations on this topic--this golden age of ignorance and
bliss--occupied him all the way, as he walked over the hills to leave
his letter at the gate-lodge for Mr. Maitland.

Resisting all the lodge-keeper's inducements to talk,--for he was an
old friend of Tony's, and wanted much to know where he had been and
what doing of late, and why he was n't up at the Abbey every day as
of yore,--Tony refused to hear of all the sad consequences that had
followed on his absence; how the "two three-year-olds had gone back in
their training;" how "Piper wouldn't let a saddle be put on his back;"
how the carp were all dying in the new pond, nobody knew why,--there was
even something gone wrong with the sun-dial over the stable, as though
the sun himself had taken his departure in dudgeon, and would n't look
straight on the spot since. These were, with many more, shouted after
him as he turned away, while he, laughing, called out, "It will be all
right in a day or two, Mat. I 'll see to everything soon."

"That I 'll not," muttered he to himself when alone. "The smart
hussar--the brave Captain--may try his hand now. I 'd like to see him
on Piper. I only wish that he may mount him with the saddle tightly
girthed; and if he does n't cut a somerset over his head, my name is n't
Tony! Let us see, too, what he 'll do with those young dogs; they 're
wild enough by this time! I take it he 's too great a swell to know
anything about gardening or grafting; so much the worse for my Lady's
flower-pot! There 's one thing I 'd like to be able to do every morning
of my life," thought he, in sadder mood,--"just to give Alice's chestnut
mare one canter, to make her neck flexible and her mouth light, and to
throw her back on her haunches. And then, if I could only see Alice on
her! just to see her as she bends down over the mane and pats the mare's
shoulder to coax her not to buck-leap! There never was a picture that
equalled it! the mare snorting and with eyes flashing, and Alice all the
while caressing her, and saying, 'How silly you are, Maida! come, now,
do be gentle!'"

These thoughts set others in motion,--the happy, happy days of long ago;
the wild, half-reckless gallops over the fern-clad hills in the clear
bright days of winter; or the still more delightful saunterings of a
summer's eve on the sea-shore!--none of them--not one--ever to come back
again. It was just