Mr. Mountford looked at his wife with a world of honest love in his eyes, but his voice trembled at the bare thought of such a misfortune as his words suggested.
"No fear, Kenneth. I can manage the horse well enough, and I mean to try."
She answered with a glance of defiance, in no way moved by the tender words, because they clashed with the indulgence of her own whim.
"You shall try, dear, as soon as I am satisfied that you can do so with safety. And now come, darling, and pay me in your own sweet way for your new steed."
Mrs. Mountford, however, hung back, and with a little impatient toss of her head replied, "You know the old saying, Kenneth, 'There are only two bad paymasters, those who pay in advance, and those who never pay at all.' You must wait until Prince is mine, before you ask for his price from me."
"I do not know how he can be more yours, seeing that I have paid for him."
"He is yours no doubt, Kenneth. He will only be mine when I am permitted to use him."
"Which shall be as soon as—" began Mr. Mountford, but his wife did not wait for the rest of the sentence. Without even resuming her seat or holding further conversation with her husband, she swept from the room. If she had given one look behind her, the sight of Mr. Mountford's face might have moved her. It was so full of sorrow, and all for herself. He might well have been angry, for he had spent a large sum to give her pleasure, and if he had bidden her stay her hand before taking possession of Prince, it was only to insure her safety, and she well knew this.
There was bitter disappointment, too, for the loving husband. The pair had been much more united of late, and consequently, far happier. Mrs. Mountford's old wilfulness had apparently softened down, and she had manifested greater confidence in her husband's judgment, and willingness to fall in with it.
Even in this moment of renewed trouble Mr. Mountford was chiefly anxious for his wife's pleasure.