The Major discovered, to his intense disgust, that his stepson had got a wonderful bargain--a prize he was resolved to secure for himself on that young man’s departure. “Clancy” was well aware that his new owner was a strong bold rider, who was his master; and, although he was by no means a mount for a timid, elderly gentleman, he was a mount for a brave young lady, and Miss Dopping’s old face lit up with keen delight, when she saw Betty Redmond, sitting squarely on the grey, as he clattered up the town, escorted by George on the Major’s dog-cart mare, and Cuckoo on the blacksmith’s pony. The grey was a rare fencer in a big country, and sailed over everything that came in his way, with equal satisfaction to himself (for he had a craze for fencing) and his rider; his performances with the foxhounds were noted by “The Man at the Cross Roads” in the _Irish Times_, and the Major took extraordinary credit to himself, as he attended the meets on wheels, and flourished his red silk pocket-handkerchief, and pointed out his purchase to his friends, saying in his loud hoarse voice: “You see old Tom Malone has an eye for a horse yet.” (All the same, Tom Malone had never been credited with this particular class of eye, at any period!) “Look at that grey my stepson is riding. _I_ bought him, and dirt cheap too. He can make a holy show of every horse in the country; he is a chaser, that’s what he is, and would fetch three hundred any day. Eh? What? What?” * * * * * George, with his hunter and his gun, was now frequently absent from Ballingoole, staying in various hospitable country houses with recent acquaintances, with relations of brother officers, or with hunting men. His mother was gratified; she “liked to see her bairn respected like the lave.” The Major was gratified from other reasons, and the only person who was dissatisfied was Belle. Was her prize to be snatched away from her, by the hungry, scheming mothers of anxious marriageable daughters? Or would absence make his heart grow fonder of her--or of somebody else?