“She did that,” replied his lordship, smiling at Dicky’s pronunciation. “And that reminds me,” continued Dicky, emboldened by what he thought the encouragement, “I was down at Freestone Banks yasterday, where Barbara was walked, a seein’ a pup I have there now, and I think I seed the very neatest lady’s pad I ever set eyes on!”—Dicky’s light-blue eyes settling on his lordship’s eagle ones as he spoke. “Aye! who’s was that?” asked the gay old gentleman, catching at the word “lady.” “Why, they say she belongs to a young lady from the south—a Miss Dedancey, I think they call her,” with the aptitude people have for mistaking proper names. “Dedancey,” repeated his lordship, “Dedancey; never heard of the name before—what’s set her here?” “She’s styin’ at Mrs. Roseworth’s, at Lanecroft House, but her osses stand at the Spread Heagle, at Bush Dill—Old Sam ‘Utchison’s, you know.” _Indomitable Youth_. Horses! what, has she more than one? _Dicky_. Two, a bay and a gray,—it’s the bay that takes my fancy most:—the neatest stepper, with the lightest month, and fairest, freeest, truest action I ever seed. _Indomitable Youth_. What’s she going to do with them? _Dicky._ Ride them, ride them! They say she’s the finest oss-woman that ever was seen. “In-deed,” mused his lordship, thinking over the _pros_ and _cons_ of female equestrianism,—the disagreeableness of being beat by them,—the disagreeableness of having to leave them in the lurch,—the disagreeableness of seeing them floored,—the disagreeableness of seeing them all running down with perspiration;—the result being that his lordship adhered to his established opinion that women have no business out hunting. Dicky knew his lordship’s sentiments, and did not press the matter, but drew his horse a little to the rear, thinking it fortunate that all men are not of the same way of thinking. Thus they rode on for some distance in silence, broken only by the occasional flopping and chiding of Harry Swan or his brother whip of some loitering or refractory hound. His lordship had a great opinion of Dicky’s judgment, and though they might not always agree in their views, he never damped Dicky’s ardour by openly differing with him. He thought by Dicky’s way of mentioning the lady that he had a good opinion of her, and, barring the riding, his lordship saw no reason why he should not have a good opinion of her too. Taking advantage of the Linton side-bar now bringing them upon the Somerton-Longville road, he reined in his horse a little so as to let Dicky come alongside of him again. “What is this young lady like?” asked the indomitable youth, as soon as they got their horses to step pleasantly together again.