In a few minutes, supper was announced. The two boys sat down with their father and Dick, and the meal was served in English fashion. Dick had already become accustomed to the white-robed servants, at the hotel at Madras, and everything seemed to him pleasant and home-like.
"Tomorrow, Dick," his uncle said, "you must have your first lesson in riding."
The two boys looked up in surprise. They had been accustomed to horses from their earliest remembrance, and it seemed to them incredible that their tall cousin should require to be taught. Dick smiled at their look of astonishment.
"It is not, with us in England, as it is here," he said. "Boys who live in the country learn to ride, but in London, which is a very great town, with nothing but houses for miles and miles everywhere, few people keep horses to ride. The streets are so crowded, with vehicles of all sorts, and with people on foot, that it is no pleasure to ride in them, and everyone who can afford it goes about in a carriage. Those who cannot, go in hired vehicles, or on foot. You would hardly see a person on horseback once in a week."
"I do not like walking," Doast said gravely.
"Well, you see, you have no occasion to walk, as you always have your horses. Besides, the weather here is very hot. But in England it is colder, and walking is a pleasure. I have walked over twenty miles a day, many times, not because I had to do it, but as a day's pleasure with a friend."
"Can you shoot, cousin?"
"No," Dick laughed. "There is nothing to shoot at. There are no wild beasts in England, and no game birds anywhere near London."
Dick saw, at once, that he had descended many steps in his cousins' estimation.
"Then what can you find to do?" the younger boy asked.