“Did you send for me, father?”
“Of course I did. You were going to mount the brown filly?”
“I am going. Have you any objection to my doing so?”
“Do you want your neck broken?”
“Ha, ha, ha! There’s not much fear of that. I think you make light of my horsemanship, papa.”
“You carry too much confidence, sir—far too much. You mount a vicious mare without consulting me. You do other and more important things without consulting me. I intend putting a stop to it.”
“What other things do you refer to, father?”
“Many other things. You spend money foolishly—like a madman; and, like a maniac, you are now rushing upon a danger of a still graver kind—upon destruction, sir—rank, absolute destruction.”
“Of what are you speaking, father? Do you mean by my mounting the filly?”
“No, sir. You may back her, and break your neck, for aught I care. I’m speaking of what’s far wickeder—a woman.”