"Are you going to pace him?" asked Jim.
"I believe so," replied the girl casually. "Dad's going to send him the full course to-day. Jerry and I are to take him over the fences the first time round. And then Stanley's to bring him along the flat the last two miles."
They travelled up the public path past the church amid the sycamores. Mat on his fast-walking cob rode in front, kicking his legs. Boy and Jim followed more soberly.
She rode a little behind him that she might see his profile. Suddenly he reined back and met her face, his own gleaming with laughter. At such moments he looked absurdly young.
"I say, Boy!" he began, dropping his voice.
She snatched her eyes from his face, and then peeped at him warily.
"What?"
He drew up beside her.
"I'm not a gentleman any more."
She looked straight before her. Her fine lips were firm and resisting, but about her eyes the light stole and rippled deliciously.