"Now, you little scamp, gallop around the lawn." Kettle, his scared eyes nearly bouncing out of his little black face, his grin wholly disappeared, was quite incapable of taking a gallop around the lawn of his own initiative. He clung desperately to the reins, and began to stutter. "G-g-g-g-ood Gord A'mighty, Miss Betty! I's jes' skeered to death of this heah hoss!" Birdseye, however, well bred, well behaved, and intelligent, paid no attention to the squirming, frightened burden upon her shapely back. Fortescue, taking her by the bridle, led her to the paling around the little lawn, and then, with a twig broken from a big holly tree, gave her a sharp cut on the flank. Birdseye knew what was expected, and, rising, she made a beautiful standing jump over the paling. At that Kettle, with a yell, dropped the reins and grabbed the mare around the neck with both arms. Not even this could disturb Birdseye's admirable poise. Fortescue himself made a standing leap over the paling and, running Birdseye around, made her do another beautiful jump over the paling. By that time, not even fear of Fortescue or love of Betty could keep Kettle on Birdseye's back another minute. As soon as she came to a standstill, he tore off the horse-blanket and, dropping to the ground, ran as fast as his short legs could carry him into the kitchen, and disappeared. The Colonel, who was watching from the window, tapped his approval on the window-pane. Fortescue then mounted, and, riding off some distance in the field, came back at a swinging gallop, and Birdseye took the paling most beautifully in her stride, flying over it like a bird. Betty immediately fell deeply in love with Birdseye, and declared that she must go upstairs and put on her habit, and test the horse for herself. In a little while, she came down, more bewitching than ever to Fortescue's eyes, in her trim black habit and little beaver hat. Fortescue, mindful of Colonel Beverley's scrutiny, put Betty on horseback in the old way, by taking her slim foot in his hand, and Betty stiffening her knee and rising into the side-saddle, which had been put on Birdseye's back. Betty did the standing leap beautifully half a dozen times, and then, riding off in the field, turned and came back, and Birdseye made a running leap like the flight of a lapwing. Fortescue had no doubt that Betty was quite safe by her own horsemanship on Birdseye's back. They were so interested in their pastime that they forgot the passing of the hours. The Christmas dinner at Holly Lodge was served at four o'clock, and just before the hour Uncle Cesar came out of the house and said with a courtly bow to Fortescue: "Ole Marse, he say it is mos' fou' o'clock, an' you mus' come in an' have Christmas dinner with Miss Betty an' him." Fortescue demurred a little, meaning all the while to accept. His riding clothes were hardly suitable, he said. But Betty clinched the matter by saying to Uncle Cesar: