“Put an arm around my waist. I must let her go. At once!” I added; for the mare was getting to rear a little, and the young woman hesitated. “Do as I tell thee!” I cried sharply, and when I felt her right arm about me, I said, “Hold fast!” and gave the mare her head. A mile sufficed, with the double burden, so to quiet her that she came down to her usual swift and steady walk. When there was this chance to talk without having every word jolted out in fragments, the young person was silent; and when I remarked, “There is now an opportunity to chat with comfort,” said: “I was waiting, sir, to hear your excuses; but perhaps Friends do not apologise.” I thought her saucy, for I had done my best; and for her to think me unmannerly was neither just nor kind. “If I am of thy friends--” “Oh, Quakers, I meant. Friends with a large F, Mr. Wynne.” “It had been no jesting matter if the mare had given thee a hard fall.” “I should have liked that better than to be ordered to do as your worship thought fit.” “Then thou shouldst not have obeyed me.” “But I had to.” “Yes,” I said. And the talk having fallen into these brevities. Miss Peniston was quiet awhile, no doubt pouting prettily; her face was, of course, hid from me. After a while she said something about the milestones being near together, and then took to praising Lucy, who, I must say, had behaved as ill as a horse could. I said as much, whereon I was told that mares were jealous animals; which I thought a queer speech, and replied, not knowing well how to reply, that the mare was a good beast, and that it was fair flattery to praise a man’s horse, for what was best in the horse came of the man’s handling. “But even praise of his watch a man likes,” said she. “He has a fine appetite, and likes to fatten his vanity.” She was too quick for me in those days, and I never was at any time very smart at this game, having to reflect too long before seeing my way. I said that she was no doubt right, but thus far that I had had thin diet. Perhaps saying that Lucy was gay and well bred and had good paces was meant to please the rider. This woman, as I found later, was capable of many varieties of social conduct, and was not above flattering for the mere pleasure it gave her to indulge her generosity, and for the joy she had in seeing others happy. Wondering if what she had said might be true, held me quiet for a while, and busied with her words, I quite forgot the young woman whose breath I felt now and then on my hair, as she sat behind me.