Judge Hedelquiver. “There you are! You mount as if you had some little wings up there among the plumes of your hat. I will bet you have.”
Mr. Cullen, appearing at the door with a book in his hand. “What, are you going to ride this morning, Miss Hedelquiver?”
Monde. “Yes, Mr. Cullen.”
Mr. Cullen. “And alone?”
Monde. “Yes, sir. Uncle, my stick, if you please.”
Mr. Cullen, springing forward to pick up the stick. “Now I protest against this! I have been thinking that I wanted to ride—and (laughing a little) that I wanted to ride with you. Let me help you off, now, for a few minutes. I will have John ready in—John is in the stable, isn’t he, judge?”
Judge Hedelquiver. “Yes, and at your service, if Monde will wait—if she wants you to go. You haven’t asked her.”
Mr. Cullen. “No! presuming blockhead that I am! Do you want me to go with you, Monde?”
Monde. “If you want to.”
Mr. Cullen. “As I most certainly do. Let me help you. Only I am sorry to give you so much trouble. I am sorry I didn’t know, in the first of it, that you were going. You will tell me next time, wont you?” (opening the gate for Monde to pass in.)