gentle
Katie--the girl whom he had adored so long--ha! there was comfort in the
word _had_; it belonged to the past; it referred to things gone by; it
rhymed with sad, bad, mad; it suggested a period of remote antiquity,
and pointed to a hazy future. As the latter thought rushed through his
heated brain, he turned his eyes on Fanny, with that bold look of
dreadful determination that marks the traitor when, having fully made up
his mind, he turns his back on his queen and flag for ever! But poor
Queeker found little comfort in the new prospect, for Fanny had been
gently touched on the elbow by Katie when she committed her savage
attack; and when Queeker looked at the fair, fat cousin, she was
involved in the agonies of a suppressed but tremendous giggle.

After breakfast two horses were brought to the door. Wildfire, a sleek,
powerful roan of large size, was a fit steed for the stalwart Tom, who,
in neatly-fitting costume and Hessian boots, got into the saddle like a
man accustomed to it. The other horse, Slapover, was a large,
strong-boned, somewhat heavy steed, suitable for a man who weighed
sixteen stone, and stood six feet in his socks.

"Now then, jump up, Queeker," said Mr Stoutheart, holding the stirrup.

If Queeker had been advised to vault upon the ridge-pole of the house,
he could not have looked more perplexed than he did as he stood looking
up at the towering mass of horse-flesh, to the summit of which he was
expected to climb. However, being extremely light, and Mr Stoutheart
senior very strong, he was got into the saddle somehow.

"Where _are_ the stirrups?" said Queeker, with a perplexed air, trying
to look over the side of his steed.

"Why, they've forgot to shorten 'em," said Mr Stoutheart with a laugh,
observing that the irons were dangling six inches below the rider's
toes.

This was soon rectified. Queeker's glazed leather leggings--which were
too large for him, and had a tendency to turn round--were put straight;
the reins were gathered up, and the huntsman rode away.

"All you've to do is to hold on," shouted Mr Stoutheart, as they rode
through the gate. "He is usually a little skittish at the start, but
quiet as a lamb afterwards."

Queeker made no reply. His mind was brooding on his wrongs and sorrows;
for Katie had quietly whispered him to take care and not fall off, and
Fanny had giggled again.

"I _must_ cure him of his foolish fancy," thought Katie as she
re-entered the hous