"Archibald rode him last week, and says he is perfect, and quite safe. I have decided on trying him to-morrow."
"I wish Chesney would not put such thoughts into your head. He is not safe, and he has never been ridden by a woman."
"That is just why I fancy him: I have often before now ridden horses that had never had a lady on their backs until I rode them. And to-morrow I feel sure will be a good day, besides being probably my last meet for the season."
"My dear child, I think it would indeed be your last meet were you to ride that brute: his temper is thoroughly uncertain."
"You told me a few days ago my hand could make any horse's mouth, and now——"
"I told you then what I tell you again now, that you are one of the best woman riders I ever saw. But for all that, you would find it impossible to manage Saracen."
"You refuse him to me, then?" with an ominous gleam in her eyes.
"I wish you would not look at it in that light: I merely cannot consent to let you break your neck. If your own mare does not please you, you can take my mount, or any other in the entire stables."
"No, thank you, I only want that one."
"But, my dear Lilian, pray be reasonable!" entreats Chetwoode, warmly, and just a trifle impatiently: "do you think I would be doing my duty by you if I sanctioned such a rash proceeding?"