They trotted away from cantonments, past the tank, and along a road that led between stretches of level fields green with the young corn. The faint breeze brought with it the clean smell of damp earth, recalling to Ted’s mind many a ride at home when the wind blew from the south-west. Ethel and Jim were in the highest of spirits, and they chaffed one another freely, greatly to the edification of the ensign, who had anticipated unlimited “spooning”—a state of mind he loathed. He quickly made the discovery that his future sister-in-law was by no means bad fun, and when he and Jim entered into a dispute respecting the merits of the Guides as compared with the 193rd, Ethel took his side against her lover, wittily supporting the ensign’s arguments and making fun of the Guides. Strange to say, Captain Russell appealed to like and admire the raillery of the girl he worshipped.
Ethel Woodburn was not merely a good-looking, dainty, and sweet-tempered girl—she was good throughout; and as she was not above taking pains to gain the approval of her lover’s brother, she rapidly won a place in that youth’s by no means too susceptible heart.
Ethel was a graceful horsewoman, and this accomplishment told in Ted’s eyes, for he himself was an uncommonly good rider to hounds. Accustomed to horses from his earliest childhood, he loved and understood the noble creatures. When home from school in the winter he had rarely missed a meet of the Cheshire hounds, and had more than once been in at the death. So fond was he of horses that he had set his heart upon joining a cavalry regiment, but Major-General Russell had decided against that expensive luxury.
He therefore approved cordially, and with open admiration, of Ethel’s fearless riding and firm seat, and, muttering to himself “She’ll do!” he began to acquiesce more willingly in the new order of things.
Ted’s horse—“Tommy Dodd”—a powerful roan purchased quite recently, was young and foolish, and started violently on the slightest provocation, swerving from one side of the road to the other, or prancing on hind-legs with frightened eyes and twitching ears. But the boy kept his seat with unperturbed face, soothing the steed until Tommy had recovered from his alarm. Ethel, for her part, watched his perfect mastery of the animal with undisguised admiration.
“You’re fond of horses, Ted; ain’t they glorious?” she asked, stroking her chestnut affectionately. “I’m glad we have tastes in common.”
“Yes. I think I like riding better than anything else,” the ensign replied with enthusiasm.
“Ted’s a good rider!” Jim observed approvingly; “a good deal better than I am. He took to it like a duck to water.”
“By the way, Jim, you’re staying over the races, ain’t you?” the younger brother enquired.
“Let me see, when do they come off? To-day week?”