“Yes, this is the end of the fourth week.”
“Then don’t you think I deserve a bit of credit?”
“Oh yes!” I cried eagerly. “You have taken great pains over me, Lom. I wish I had not been so stupid.”
“So do I,” he said drily. “Saddle feel very slippery this morning?”
“Oh no, I didn’t notice it,” I replied.
“Didn’t long for the stirrups?”
“I didn’t think about them.”
“Felt as if you belonged to the horse now, eh, and could let yourself go with him?”
“Oh yes,” I said.
“Well, then, all I’ve got to say, my boy, is, ‘Brayvo!’ You went through it all wonderfully this morning, and quite astonished me. Seemed as if you and the horse were one, and you never showed the white feather once. Why, in another two or three months your uncle shall be proud of you.”