"I'll do more than that," said I; "I'll lay you fifty pounds to thirty that you do not ride from this door to the village and back in half an hour; it's under a mile, so you have ample time." "Ah--done," quoth the young gentleman; and the bets were promptly booked, the time being fixed for the start at 10 A.M. Next morning everybody, from my Uncle down to the boy who cleaned the knives, turned out to see Lord Ventnor give me a lesson in riding. Jack, Lettie, and Grace I had let into the secret of the duck-pond, and thither we repaired to see the fun. In a few moments along the road came Ventnor with a sort of I-told-you-how-it-would-be smile on his face. A snort--a full stop--down went the bay's head, and up went his heels. "Mind he doesn't roll with you, or it will cost you forty pounds," shouted Jack, and "Look out, man," as the animal's forelegs began to tremble. Nearer and nearer the pond they got, when all of a sudden down dropped the new horse, Ventnor jumping off as he fell; but unfortunately for himself he caught his near spur in the saddle as the animal turned over, and with an "Oh!" from the two girls, we saw him disappear head first into the pond, while the "white stocking" made tracks homeward as hard as he could go. "My dear sir," said Jack, as we pulled the dripping lord out of the pond, "a fellah, you know, should not ride unless he knows how to prevent a horse rolling; it isn't safe, you know." This was too much for both Grace and Lettie, and they were forced to retire in order to hide their laughter. Ventnor was so angry that he would not speak, and he paid us our money with a very bad grace the same evening. However, it taught him a lesson that it will take him years to forget. I told Uncle John after this of my meeting in the train with the Messrs. Bell, and he decided at once to send the brute up to Aldridge's, where the fine upstanding bay fetched exactly twenty-five guineas, and was dear at that. On Christmas Eve I ventured to ask Grace for a Christmas present, to wit, herself, and as Jack, who was my best man, said at the wedding breakfast: "Though the mount was not a pleasant one, still as it was instrumental in obtaining for me my wife, I had no right to be too hard on Uncle John's New Horse." THE HOG-BACKED STILE. CHAPTER I. COMING EVENTS. Towards the middle of December, 1878, a dog-cart might have been seen standing outside the small station of Newcome, in Slopshire. There was nothing particularly remarkable about the turn-out--a goodish-looking animal in the shafts and a certain air of neatness stamped it as belonging to a gentleman, but beyond that there was no particular feature to attract attention. No gaudy red wheels, nothing dazzling in the way of "picking out;" simply an ordinary dog-cart, which had come down from Belton Hall to meet the 5.35 train from London.