‘How good of you to ask us to luncheon, Lady Ilfracombe!’ exclaimed the new comer. ‘I am sure I shall never forget it. I do so admire anything like cordiality. You meet with so little of it in this country. We Englishwomen are horribly stiff as a rule, are we not? Sir Archibald and I were admiring your drag so much. We were on the course when you drove up, just making our way to the Grand Stand. It is quite a wonder we are here. We never meant to come, but I have never seen the Derby run, and Sir Archibald thought I should not go back to Wales without doing so. We drove down but put up at the hotel. Are we not ignoramuses? I was just despairing of pushing our way through this crowd when Jack spied us out, and landed us, through your goodness, in this haven of peace.’
‘You have known Mr Portland a long time then, I suppose?’ remarked Nora.
‘Why? Because I called him “Jack?” Oh, everyone calls him “Jack,” don’t they? He’s a regular lady’s man, is Mr Portland, and a great favourite with my husband. He is coming to stay with us in Usk next month.’
‘So he told us just now.’
‘Yes, I am quite looking forward to it. He is such a delightful companion in the country. Do you like the country, Lady Ilfracombe? Are you fond of horses?’
‘I am very fond of horses,’ replied Nora, smiling; ‘but if your question means, Do you ride well? I must tell you that I never mounted a horse till after my marriage, and so I am still a learner.’
‘Oh, you’ll be proficient in no time!’ exclaimed Lady Bowmant. ‘Isn’t it delightful? I adore riding and driving, and everything connected with horses. Don’t I, Sir Archibald?’
‘You do, my dear,’ said the jolly baronet. ‘That is, if adoring means riding them to death, and driving over half my tenantry,’ and he roared as if his wife’s feats of skill were the funniest things in the world.
‘Now, don’t tell tales out of school, Sir Archibald,’ cried the lady. ‘You know when I hunted last season that there wasn’t a woman in the field who could keep anywhere near me. And didn’t I carry off three brushes? And didn’t the master of the fox-hounds say I was the pluckiest horsewoman he had ever seen?’
‘Oh, yes, Dolly; no one denies your pluck, my dear. Only I wish you didn’t drive your tandem over the children so often. The pounds I had to pay last year for mending babies and recouping the mothers passes belief.’