Lord Artingale would canter over from Gatton, sending two or three or more horses by his grooms, an arrangement highly approved of by Frank and Cyril Mallow, who were very civil to him, though in private they compared notes, and said that he would be an awful fool if he had not borne a title and kept such good cigars. Sometimes the Rector joined the equestrian parties upon a quiet cob, but he generally turned homeward after two or three miles, either to make a call or two at the outlying farms, or to meet the carriage. Then, to make things pleasant, poor Julia talked art on horseback with Mr Perry-Morton, while her sister and Lord Artingale had a brisk canter over some heath, and the groom behind sat and grinned. "Talk about the guv'nor," said the last-named individual, as he returned to the stables with the horses, and compared notes with Lord Artingale's man, "he is a sight on horseback. That there old cob holds him on almost. But if you want to see riding you should go behind that there Perry-Morton." This was in the midst of a chorus of hissing from the helpers, who were rubbing down the horses after one of the morning rides. "He do look a rum un," said one of the men. "Look!" said the groom; "he _is_ a rum un. He gets them little thin legs of his one on each side of the horse, and keeps yer altering his sterrups for ever so long. Now they're too long, and now they're too short, and when we starts he holds his reins one in each hand, and bends forward so that if his horse didn't have on a martingale he'd always be finding his nose between its ears." "Can't he ride, then?" "Ride! Yes; like a sack o' sharps on a miller's pony. It's freezing work going out with him, worse than with the guv'nor, for he keeps his 'oss at a walk the whole time. Lor', I'd give something to see him on his lordship's _Mad Sal_." But the groom was not destined to see Mr Perry-Morton upon that greyhound-framed hunter, which was full of fire and fidget with every one but Cynthia, who could have curbed her with a silken thread, for that gentleman was an admirer of repose even on horseback, and would only ride the quietest horse he could hire at the King's Head, although Lord Artingale offered him the pick of his little stud. Repose, too, gave him so many excellent opportunities for putting forward his suit with Julia, upon whom he beamed in a mezzo-tinto style, the lady hardly realising his meaning, only thinking him very absurd, and laughingly telling her sister that she owed her a long debt of gratitude for giving her so many opportunities for a long canter--one of those delightful long canters from which Cynthia used to come back with a delicious glow upon her cheeks, and with eyes that literally sparkled with health and pleasure combined. "Looking like a wild gal," Mr Jabez Fullerton said, as he stood at his shop door. "I declare it's immoral, that's what it is; a parson's daughter gadding about like a jockey, Smithson; it's disgusting."