William let go, and made a dash at the rear step. The shiny cob squeaked, stood thoughtfully on his hind legs for a moment, and then dashed across the bridge, shaving a cab rather closely, and failing to observe a bank of stones at one side of the road.
“Do you mind this sort of thing?” inquired Marguerite, as they bumped heavily over the obstruction.
“Not in the least. Most invigorating, I consider it.” Marguerite arranged the reins carefully, and inclined the whip at a suitable angle across her companion's vision.
“I'm learning to drive, you know,” she said, leaning confidently down from her high seat. “And papa thinks that because this young gentleman is rather stout he is quiet, which is quite a mistake. Whoa! Steady! Keep off the grass! Visitors are requested to keep to—Well, I'm”—she hauled the pony off the common, whither he had betaken himself, on to the road again—“blowed,” she added, religiously completing her unfinished sentence.
They were now between high fences, and compelled to progress more steadily.
“I am very glad you have come, you know,” Marguerite took the opportunity of assuring the visitor. “It is jolly slow, I can tell you, at times; and then you will do papa good. He is very difficult to manage. It took me a week to get this pony out of him. His great idea is for somebody to marry me. He looks upon me as a sort of fund that has to be placed or sunk or something, somewhere. There was a young Scotchman here the week before last. I have forgotten his name already. John—something—Fairly. Yes, that is it—John Fairly, of Auchen-something. It is better to be John Fairly, of Auchen-something, than a belted earl, it appears.”
“Did John tell you so himself?” inquired Tony.
“Yes; and he ought to know, oughtn't he? But that was what put me on my guard. When a Scotchman begins to tell you who he is, take my advice and sheer off.”
“I will,” said Tony.
“And when a Scotchman begins to tell you what he has, you may be sure that he wants something more. I smelt a rat at once. And I would not speak to him for the rest of the evening, or if I did, I spoke with a Scotch accent—just a suspeecion of an accent, you know—nothing to get hold of, but just enough to let him know that his Auchen-something would not go down with me.”