But Lufa was careful not to neglect their other guests. She was always ready to accompany any of the ladies riding out of a morning; and a Mr. Sefton, who was there when Walter arrived, generally rode with them. He was older than Walter, and had taken little notice of him, which Walter resented more than he would have cared to acknowledge. He was tall and lanky, with a look of not having been in the oven quite long enough, but handsome nevertheless. Without an atom of contempt, he cared nothing for what people might think; and when accused of anything, laughed, and never defended himself. Having no doubt he was in the right, he had no anxiety as to the impression he might make. In the hunting-field he was now reckless, now so cautious that the men would chaff him. But they knew well enough that whatever he did came either of pure whim or down-right good sense; no one ever questioned his pluck. I believe an intermittent laziness had something to do with his inconsistency. It had been taken for granted by Lufa that Walter could not ride; whereas, not only had he had some experience, but he was one of the few possessed of an individual influence over the lower brotherhood of animals, and his was especially equine. One morning, from an ailment in one of the horses, Lufa found that her mount required consideration. Sefton said the horse he had been riding would carry her perfectly. “What will you do for a horse?” “Go without.” “What shall we do for a gentleman?” “Go without.” “I saw a groom this morning,” suggested Walter, “on a lovely little roan!” “Ah, Red Racket!” answered Lady Lufa, “He is no horse; he is a little fiend. Goes as gently as a lamb with my father, though, or any one that he knows can ride him. Try Red Racket, George.” They were cousins, though not in the next degree. “I would if I could sit him. But I’m not a rough rider, and much disinclined to have my bones broken. It’s not as if there was anything to be got by it, even a brush!” “Two hours of your sister, your cousin, and their friend!” said Lufa. “Much of you I should have with Red Racket under me--or over me as likely! at best jumping about, and taking all the attention I had! No, thank you!” “Come, George,” said his sister, “you will make them think you are no horseman!” “Neither I am; I have not a good seat, and you know it! I am not going to make a fool of myself on compulsion! I know what I can do, and what I can’t do.” “I wish I had the chance!” murmured Walter, as if to himself, but so that Lufa heard. “You can ride?” said Lufa, with pleased surprise. “Why not?” returned Walter. “Every Englishman should ride.” “Yes; every Englishman should swim; but Englishmen are drowned every day!” “That is as often because they can swim, but have not Mr. Sefton’s prudence.” “You mustn’t think my cousin afraid of Red Racket!” she returned. “I don’t. He doesn’t look like it!” “Do you really wish to ride the roan?” “Indeed I do!”