An active, keen-looking youngster of sixteen made up the family party.
Ernest Neuchamp was approved of by the ladies of the household, as indeed was generally the case, being one of those sympathetic and genial persons whom women instinctively take into favour. The conversation had become general and sprightly pleasant, when, in answer to a question about his travelling alone, he happened to mention that he had met, he supposed, the clergyman, not far from their house.
‘There is more than one clergyman in our district,’ said the lady of the house, ‘but I daresay we shall recognise him from your description.’
‘He was a gentlemanlike person, rather handsome, indeed,’ continued he. ‘It seems an odd thing, though, that clergymen, as a rule, ride so indifferently, and especially in a new country like this, where the necessity of long journeys might have given them practice, one would think; yet I could not get your friend to follow me over a middle rail.’
‘What?’ said his host, with a look of altogether inexplicable astonishment mixed with amusement visible in his face; ‘did you give him a lesson in riding?’
‘I tried,’ said Ernest; ‘I am sure his horse would have followed mine if he had mustered up courage, and put him at it. I tried all I knew to induce him, and said that with a little practice I was sure he would soon be able to take moderate jumps.’
‘Moderate jumps! oh, Lord!’ said his entertainer; ‘and what answer did he make?’
‘He smiled gravely, and said, “Who knows?” then bade me good-bye. I hope he was not offended.’
‘Ha! ha! ha!’ yelled the youngster, exploding helplessly. ‘Oh dear! oh! I’ll lay anything, papa, it was Mr. Heatherstone. I shall die! I know I shall. What a jolly sell!’
The girls struggled with their emotions—one hid her face in her handkerchief. The lady of the house smiled, but tried to look grand, and reproved her son, who continued to shriek with suppressed laughter, and finally bolted out of the room, as the safer proceeding.