But Lord Kemms was not a man to be so easily diverted from his purpose. Backing his horse to the other side of the road, he put him at the ditch, and next moment was cantering across the field towards his neighbour. “Don’t bring an action for trespass against me, Mr. Dudley,” he said, laughing; “you are so hard to catch, I could not resist the opportunity of speaking to you about that filly your brother was training. Do you really wish to keep her? she is exactly what I want for my niece.” With his hands buried in his pockets, Squire Dudley stood silent, looking at the mane of Lord Kemms’ Black Knight. Truth was, brought face to face with this would-be purchaser, he did not know exactly what answer to make. “If you really mean to keep her,” proceeded Lord Kemms, growing a little hot and uncomfortable, “of course I can only apologise for my mistake; but the fact is, I heard you were going to sell her, and—and—being neighbours, and so forth, I thought you might as well sell her to me as to anybody else.” Still Arthur did not speak—and there is no knowing when he would have spoken to the purpose, had not Mr. Black rushed in with— “I suppose it resolves itself into a money question, my lord—of course I know nothing about the horse or the offer, but my experience is that everything _is_ a money question now-a-days.” “If that be the case—” began Lord Kemms, good humouredly—but Arthur cut across his sentence: “It is not so with me,” he said, deliberately turning his back on Mr. Black, so as to cut him out of the conversation; “it is not so with me. For the sake of a few pounds, I would not haggle and bargain with any man—more especially your lordship. I did intend to keep the filly—not exactly for my own riding, but because I thought, and think still, she would be worth three times over what you offered me in another twelve months; but I have changed my mind about the matter, and, if you like to have her on the terms you offered before, I will send her over to the Park to-night. She is fit for any light weight to ride; my brother can break a horse better than anyone I know.” Arthur spoke rapidly: there was a look in his face, and a decision about his manner, Lord Kemms had never noticed before; but then, to be sure, his opportunities of witnessing the Squire’s moods had been few and far between. From the Squire it was natural Lord Kemms’ glance should wander to Mr. Black, and written on that gentleman’s expressive countenance, the peer read such intense disgust at Arthur’s folly, that he could scarcely refrain from laughing. “Thank you, Mr. Dudley,” he said, gathering up his reins and stroking the Black Knight’s neck as he spoke; “thank you very much. I shall be very proud of Nellie, and think her a great addition to my stud—she is a perfect beauty!” “I would not sell her to you, if I did not believe her to be every bit as good as she looks,” answered the Squire.