“No, at Oxford,” said Beecham, with a slight flush as he spoke; for although he accepted the warm shake-hands Lionel proffered, his manner was one of constraint all through. Young Darcy was, however, too much occupied in admiring the horse to bestow much attention on the rider.
“He 'd carry you well,” said Beecham, as if interpreting what was passing in his mind, “and as I have no fancy for him,—a worse horse will carry my weight as well,—I 'd sell him.”
“At what price?”
“Lord Netherby has valued him at three hundred,” said the young man. “I gave nearly as much myself.”
The Knight, who heard this conversation, without being able to interrupt it, was in perfect misery. The full measure of his ruin rushed suddenly on his mind, and the thought that, at the very moment his son was meditating this piece of extravagance, he was himself actually a beggar, sickened him to the heart. Meanwhile, Lionel walked his horse slowly round, the better to observe the animal he coveted, and then cantered back to his place at Mrs. Somerville's side.
Beecham seemed to hesitate for a second or two, then, riding forward, he approached Lionel: “Perhaps you would try him to-day, Captain Darcy?” The words came hesitatingly and with difficulty.
“Oh, no! he 's beyond my reach,” said Lionel, laughing.
“I'd really take it as a favor if you would ride him; I 'm not strong enough to hold him, consequently cannot do him justice.”
“Take the offer, Darcy,” said Lord Netherby, in a whisper, as he rode up to his side; “I have a great liking for that horse myself, and will buy him if you report favorably.”
“In that case, my Lord, I'll do it with pleasure. I accept your kind proposal, and will change nags if you agree.”