“Ha! ha!” said his lordship; “I don’t know about that.—He’s not the best of tempers, I can see. But look at that demon of Lady Lossie’s—that black mare there! I wish you could teach her some of your humanity.
“—By the way, Florimel, I think now we are upon the grass,”— he said it loftily, as if submitting to an injustice—“I will presume to mount the reprobate.”
The gallop had communicated itself to Liftore’s blood, and, besides, he thought after such a run Kelpie would be less extravagant in her behaviour.
“She is at your service,” said Florimel.
He dismounted, his groom rode up, he threw him the reins, and called Malcolm.
“Bring your mare here, my man,” he said.
Malcolm rode her up half way, and dismounted.
“If your lordship is going to ride her,” he said, “will you please get on her here. I would rather not take her near the other horses.”
“Well, you know her better than I do.—You and I must ride about the same length, I think.”
So saying his lordship carelessly measured the stirrup-leather against his arm, and took the reins.