“Maybe so, if the fences are not too big for me;” and a very malicious drollery twinkled in his gray eye. “Faix, and if they are,” said a farmer, “the rest may stay at home.” “I hope you 'll ride, Creagh,” said the first speaker, “and not let these English fellows take the shine out of us. Yourself and Tom are the only county names on the card.” “Show it to me,” said Creagh, listlessly; and he took the printed list in his hand and conned it over, as though it had all been new to him. “They 're all soldiers, I see,” said he. “It's Major This, and Captain That--Who is the lady?” This question was rapidly called forth by a horsewoman who rode past at an easy canter in the midst of a group of men. She was dressed in a light-gray habit and hat of the same color, from which a long white feather encircling the hat hung on one side. “That's Mrs. Sewell,--what do you think of her riding?” “If her husband has as neat a hand, I 'd rather he was out of the course. She knows well what she 's about.” “They say there's not her equal in the park in London.” “That's not park riding; that's something very different, take my word for it. She could lead half the men here across the country.” Nor was she unworthy of the praise, as, with her hand low, her head a little forward, but her back well curved in, she sat firmly down in her saddle; giving to the action of the horse that amount of movement that assisted the animal, but never more. The horse was mettlesome enough to require all her attention. It was his first day under a sidesaddle, and he chafed at it, and when the heavy skirt smote his flank, bounded with a lunge and a stroke of his head that showed anger. “That's a four-hundred guinea beast she 's on. He belongs to the tall young fellow that's riding on her left.” “I like his own horse better,--the liver-chestnut with the short legs. I wish I had a loan of him for the hurdle-race.” “Ask him, Phil; or get the mistress there to ask him,” said another, laughing. “I 'm mighty mistaken or he wouldn't refuse her.” “Oh, is that it?” said Creagh, with a knowing look. “So they tell me here, for I don't know one of them myself; but the story goes that she was to have married that young fellow when Sewell earned her off.” “I must go and get a better look at her,” said Creagh, as he spurred his horse and cantered away. “Is any one betting?” said little Westenra, as he descended from his seat on the drag. “I have not seen a man to-day with five pounds on the race.” “Here's Sewell,” muttered another; “he's coming up now, and will give or take as much as you like.” “Did you see Mrs. Sewell, any of you?” asked Sewell, cavalierly, as he rode up with an open telegram in his hand; and as the persons addressed were for the most part his equals, none responded to the insolent demand. “Could you tell me, sir,” said Sewell, quickly altering his tone, while he touched his hat to Westenra, “if Mrs. Sewell passed this way?”