"She with the German name, whom you made me dine with in Park Lane?"
"Madame Max Goesler is coming. She brings her own horses, and they will stand at Doggett's."
"They can't stand here, for there is not a stall."
"I am so sorry that my poor little fellow should incommode you," said Miss Palliser.
"You're a licensed offender,—though, upon my honour, I don't know whether I ought to give a feed of oats to any one having a connection with Trumpeton Wood. And what is Phineas to ride?"
"He shall ride my horses," said Lady Chiltern, whose present condition in life rendered hunting inopportune to her.
"Neither of them would carry him a mile. He wants about as good an animal as you can put him upon. I don't know what I'm to do. It's all very well for Laura to say that he must be mounted."
"You wouldn't refuse to give Mr. Finn a mount!" said Lady Chiltern, almost with dismay.
"I'd give him my right hand to ride, only it wouldn't carry him. I can't make horses. Harry brought home that brown mare on Tuesday with an overreach that she won't get over this season. What the deuce they do with their horses to knock them about so, I can't understand. I've killed horses in my time, and ridden them to a stand-still, but I never bruised them and battered them about as these fellows do."
"Then I'd better write to Mr. Finn, and tell him," said Lady Chiltern, very gravely.