"Beg pardon, sir,"—Hayward pulled his face into respectful shape—"spavin is a disease of the hock, not of the knee. The Prince struck that knee against a hub on the carriage this morning. No damage done, I think, sir.... They are ready, ma’am." As Mr. Scott prepared to mount he noticed that Prince William’s bridle had only one rein. "Where is the snaffle-rein?" he asked Hayward. "The curb rein was broken this morning, sir, and I haven’t another yet. I changed that rein from the snaffle-rings to the curb." "Change it back," Mr. Scott directed. "He will not trot with the curb." "True, sir, he’ll not; but the Prince has not been ridden in several days, and he’ll be hard to hold. I think you’d better use the curb, sir." No use to advise Mr. Scott. He had heard that your true cavalryman delights in a trot. "Just change it, will you," he commanded. The footman glanced at Helen before complying. "Certainly," she said; "put the rein on the snaffle-rings, Hayward." Hayward obeyed and they were off. He watched them out of sight, and remarked as he turned into the stable: "What he doesn’t know is something considerable." * * * * * "If all the flunkeys were as modest and respectful as they are timorous," Bobby said to Helen as they rode off, "the service would be greatly improved the world over. And if they were as full of courage as they are of conceit, bravery would be a drug on the market. I believe you said Hayward is your footman?" "Yes," Helen answered. "That explains it. These coachmen and footmen become so accustomed to carriage cushions that the saddle is an uncertain and rather fearsome seat for them. Their personal fears would not be out of the way if they would not impute them to men who can ride." The sparkle of interest in Helen’s eyes encouraged Mr. Scott to proceed. "My observation has been that the under-classes do not ride well—or cannot ride at all. I think that riding is naturally and really the diversion of gentlemen, the _hoi polloi_ do not take to it." It occurred to Helen that the _hoi polloi_ of Bobby’s town of New York had not the money with which to "take to" saddle-horses, but she did not raise the point. Bobby continued to talk. "I would not consider my education complete if I were not accustomed to the saddle. I think that many of our young fellows are not only careless of a most healthful and gentlemanly sport, but are recreant to duty as citizens, in not perfecting themselves in feats of arms and horsemanship. What is it that Kipling says in lamenting the degeneracy in sterner virtues of the gentry of Britain? Something like "’And ye vaunted your fathomless power, and ye flaunted your iron pride Ere—ye fawned on the Younger Nations for the men who could shoot and ride.’" "Good for you, Mr. Scott. I did not imagine you were so seriously interested in Kipling as to memorize his lines. He is fine, though, isn’t he?"