"He'd do just the same going home. I can take you the way I came, over some of the prettiest jumps you have ever seen," said Mitford, getting nettled about his horse. "Come, who'll follow?"
"I, for one," said Mrs. Hammond; but no one else spoke.
"They only want a lead; come, let us show them the way;" and as he spoke, Sir Charles turned his horse out of the high-road up a short sloping embankment on to a broad stretch of moorland, and with Mrs. Hammond close by his side, was away at full gallop. The rest of the riding party looked after them, but did not attempt to follow. Major Winton, finding himself decidedly de trop, lit a cigar, and jogged lazily along by himself, while the others continued their conversation.
Away go the big black horse and the dark iron-gray, side by side, flying over the purple moorland, Lady Jane holding her own well with her companion, let him tear and struggle as he may to shake her off. Now far away to the right looms dark the first obstacle, which Sir Charles points out with his whip, and at sight of which Mrs. Hammond rings out a merry little laugh. As they approach, it developes itself as a double line of posts and rails, good stiff oak timber, which must either be cleared or declined, through which there is no scrambling. Tambour Major sees it already, and rushes at it with a great snort of triumph, clearing it at a bound. Nor is the gray to be balked; scarcely has he alighted, foam-flecked and trembling, in the field beyond, than Lady Jane is by his side.
"That's number one," said Sir Charles; "the next we shall find just at the end of--" but Mrs. Hammond laid her whip upon his arm. She had previously looked round and marked that they were far out of the range of observation by their late companions.
"Quite enough," she said; "I am satisfied with Tambour Major's performances, and own I did him grievous injustice. From the manner in which he went at that, I am certain he could do anything. Besides," she added, bending forward and patting Lady Jane's neck with her pretty dogskin gauntlet, "I wanted to speak to you."
"To me, Mrs. Hammond?"
"Yes, to you--to you, alone. You are angry with me?"
"I--angry? 'Pon my word I can assure you--I--"
"Ah, don't deny it." Her voice dropped into its most musical and softest key. "Do you think I am not quick to read any change in your manner?"