‘And then, how many rainy and dirty days there are, when you only feel inclined to sit over the fire and toast your pretty little feet. What would become of me then, if Jack were not here to go potting rabbits, or turning the rats out of the barns with the terriers. The country is so frightfully dull at this time of year, you would be bored to death with only me to talk to.’
‘Do you think so, Ilfracombe?’
‘I feel sure of it, and how should we pass the evenings without our whist? Babbage is the only man within hail of us who thinks it worth his while to come over for a game; so if Jack were not good enough to exile himself for the pleasure of our company, we should be obliged to import someone else, who would probably not play half so well.’
Lord and Lady Ilfracombe were riding together at the time of this conversation, walking their horses slowly round the lanes about Thistlemere, for Nora was not an experienced horsewoman. She had had no opportunity of either riding or driving in Malta, and her husband was employing his leisure by teaching her something of both arts. She was a pupil to be proud of; plucky in the extreme, and only a little reckless and disposed to imagine she could do it all at once, which kept the earl on constant tenter-hooks about her. As he finished speaking to her now, she exclaimed rather impatiently,—
‘Oh, very well, let us say no more about it,’ and struck the spirited little mare she was riding sharply across the neck with her whip.
The animal started and set off suddenly at a hard gallop, nearly unseating her rider by the rapidity of her action. The earl followed, in an access of alarm until he saw that the mare had settled down into a moderate canter again.
‘Nora, my darling!’ he exclaimed, as he came up with her, ‘you mustn’t do that. Leila won’t stand it. She will throw you some day to a dead certainty. You gave me a pretty fright, I can tell you. What should I do if you were thrown.’
‘Pick me up again, I hope,’ replied the countess, laughing, as if it were an excellent joke.
‘Yes, but with a broken limb perhaps, and fancy what my remorse would be if that happened. I should never forgive myself for having mounted you on the beast. But she really is a good-tempered thing if you know how to take her.’
‘Just like her mistress,’ said Nora, smiling. ‘But, seriously, Ilfracombe, I will be more careful. I don’t want to break my leg before I am presented at Court.’