"You have been quick," he said.
"Yes; I am learning one of my wifely duties: not to keep my husband waiting." They went out, and Pottinger, standing by the horses, touched his hat and grew red with joy at sight of his master.
"Well, Pottinger! Glad to see you!" said Stafford; and he was genuinely glad. "You're looking well, and the horse is too. Halloo! you're put the side-saddle on Adonis," he added, as he went up and patted the horse.
Pottinger touched his hat again.
"Yes, sir; Miss Falconer's been riding him, and I did not know that I ought to change the saddle. I can do so in a minute—"
"No, no," said Stafford; "never mind. I will ride the hunter, as you have the saddle on him. You like Adonis, Maude?"
"Oh, yes," she replied. "Though I'm not quite sure he likes me," she added, with a laugh.
Stafford put her up, and noticed, with some surprise, that Adonis seemed restless and ill at ease, and that he shivered and shrank as he felt Maude on his back.
"What is the matter with him?" he said. "He seems fidgety. Does the saddle fit?"
"Yes, sir," said Pottinger, with a half-nervous glance at Maude, followed by the impassive expression of the trained servant who cannot speak out.