‘You might find it too fatiguing.’
‘I don’t mind fatigue a bit,’ answered Bella, curiously forgetful of her depressed state of health. ‘I shall take a two hours’ lesson to-morrow. But, remember, you are not to tell anybody about my coming here. It seems so foolish for a person of my age to be taking riding lessons.’
‘Lor’ bless your heart, ma’am, there’s ladies that come here old enough to be your grandmother. You should see them go round in the canter, with their poor old elbows waggling.’
For six days Bella pursued this secret course of instruction. She contrived to have particular business in Great Yafford every morning. Once she went to carry a hamper of good things to the dear girls at Miss Turk’s, twice to her dressmaker, once to her milliner, once to change books at the library, once to make an early call upon Mrs. Wigzell.
Mr. Piper accompanied her sometimes, but she dropped him at his club, and he in no way interfered with her liberty. At the end of the week the habit was sent home from the tailor’s, and Bella had learned to ride. She had jumped the pole successfully at its greatest altitude, and it seemed to her simple soul that there was nothing she could not achieve in the hunting-field. She had learned to sit straight, to keep her right shoulder back, to trot easily round a corner. The riding-master dismissed her with an assurance that she was a first-rate horse-woman, which he could very well afford to do, as she had paid him a guinea a lesson and made him a present at parting.
‘If you really mean me to have a horse, Mr. Piper, I think Captain Standish would be kind enough to choose one for me. You know what a judge he is.’
‘I’ve heard people say as much,’ assented Piper, ‘and I must confess he rides and drives pretty tidy cattle. But I don’t see why I shouldn’t choose your horse myself. It will be my money that’ll have to pay for it, not Captain Standish’s.’
‘My dear Mr. Piper, horses are so out of your line. You might choose some big clumsy creature—very handsome in his way, no doubt, like the Flemish dray horses, but quite unsuited for me. And you know when you bought the bays you never noticed the splint in Juno’s fore-leg.’
‘It wasn’t my business,’ growled Mr. Piper. ‘I paid for a vet’s opinion.’
‘Precisely, and got cheated in spite of him. Now Captain Standish is not like a veterinary surgeon. He’ll get no commission. You had better let him choose a horse for me.’