‘I told you I had had a riding-master. If you are not afraid, and mind what you are told, you will always come right somehow.’
‘I suspect that is good advice for more than horsemanship.’
‘I had not the slightest intention of moralizing. I am incapable of it,’ she answered, in a tone of serious self-defence.
‘I had as little intention of making the accusation,’ I rejoined. ‘But will you really teach me a little?’
‘Most willingly. To begin, you must sit erect. You lean forward.’
‘Thank you. Is this better?’
‘Yes, better. A little more yet. You ought to have your stirrups shorter. It is a poor affectation to ride like a trooper. Their own officers don’t. You can tell any novice by his long leathers, his heels down and his toes in his stirrups. Ride home, if you want to ride comfortably.’
The phrase was new to me, but I guessed what she meant; and without dismounting, pulled my stirrup-leathers a couple of holes shorter, and thrust my feet through to the instep. She watched the whole proceeding.
‘There! you look more like riding now,’ she said. ‘Let us have another canter. I will promise not to lead you over any more fences without due warning.’
‘And due admonition as well, I trust, Clara.’