“My riding-master was Robert,” she said, “and as he is my aunt’s servant, you cannot get lessons from him even if you wish to. You need not sneer at him, Clementina, for there never was a better rider than Robert, and he has taught me nearly everything he knows himself. There isn’t any horse I couldn’t sit, and it would take a very clever horse indeed to throw me.”
Clementina smiled most provokingly, and raising her whip gave gentle little Surefoot a couple of sharp strokes. The little horse quivered indignantly, and Rachel glanced at Phil, who was riding behind on Brownie.
“Oh, Phil,” she called out, “Clementina is so unkind to your horse. It is well for you, Clementina, that you are on Surefoot’s back. He is so sweet-tempered he won’t resent even cruelty very much; but if you dared to whip my horse, Ruby, you would have good reason to repent of your rashness.”
Rachel was riding on a red-coated pony, a half-tamed creature with promises of great beauty and power by and by, but at present somewhat rough and with a wild, untamed gleam in his eyes. Clementina glanced all over Ruby, but did not deign another remark. She was forming a plan in her mind. By hook or by crook she would ride Ruby home and show to the astonished Rachel what Captain Delacourt’s pupil was capable of.
The children presently reached their destination, where Bob and the light cart of refreshments awaited them. The day was very balmy and springlike, and the most fastidious could not but be pleased and the most ill-tempered could not fail for a time, at least, to show the sunny side of life. The children made merry. Rachel and Clementina forgot their disputes in the delights of preparing salads and cutting up pies; Phil, the Marmaduke boys, and Abby went off on a foraging expedition; and Kitty swung herself into the low-growing branch of a great oak tree, and lazily closing her eyes sang softly to herself.
The picnic dinner turned out a grand success; and then Clementina, who was fond of music and who had discovered that Kitty had a particularly sweet voice, called her to her and said that they might try and get up some glees, which would sound delightfully romantic in the middle of the forest. The children sat round in a circle, Clementina now quite in her element and feeling herself absolute mistress of the occasion.
Suddenly Phil got up and strolled away. No one noticed him but Rachel, who sat on thorns for a few minutes; then, when the singing was at its height, she slipped round the oak tree, flew down the glade, and reached the little boy as he was entering a thick wood which lay to the right.
“Phil! Phil! you are going to see her?”
“Oh, don’t, Rachel—don’t follow me now! If we are both missed they will come to look for us, and then the lady’s house will be discovered and she will have to go away. She said if her house was discovered she would have to go away, and oh, Rachel, if you love her—and you say you love her—that would be treating her cruelly!”
“The children won’t miss us,” said Rachel, whose breath came fast and whose cheeks were brightly colored. “The children are all singing as loudly as they can and they are perfectly happy, and Robert is eating his dinner. I won’t go in, Phil; no, of course I won’t go in, for I promised, and I would not break my word, to her of all people. But if I might stay at a little distance, and if I might just peep round a tree and see her, for she may come to talk to you, Phil. Oh, Phil, don’t prevent me! I will not show myself, but I might see without being seen.”