Ethel was a graceful horsewoman, and this accomplishment told in Ted's eyes, for he himself was an uncommonly good rider to hounds. Accustomed to horses from his earliest childhood, he loved and understood the noble creatures. When home from school in the winter he had rarely missed a meet of the Cheshire hounds, and had more than once been in at the death. So fond was he of horses that he had set his heart upon joining a cavalry regiment, but Major-General Russell had decided against that expensive luxury. He therefore approved cordially, and with open admiration, of Ethel's fearless riding and firm seat, and, muttering to himself "She'll do!" he began to acquiesce more willingly in the new order of things. Ted's horse--"Tommy Dodd"--a powerful roan purchased quite recently, was young and foolish, and started violently on the slightest provocation, swerving from one side of the road to the other, or prancing on hind-legs with frightened eyes and twitching ears. But the boy kept his seat with unperturbed face, soothing the steed until Tommy had recovered from his alarm. Ethel, for her part, watched his perfect mastery of the animal with undisguised admiration. "You're fond of horses, Ted; ain't they glorious?" she asked, stroking her chestnut affectionately. "I'm glad we have tastes in common." "Yes. I think I like riding better than anything else," the ensign replied with enthusiasm. "Ted's a good rider!" Jim observed approvingly; "a good deal better than I am. He took to it like a duck to water." "By the way, Jim, you're staying over the races, ain't you?" the younger brother enquired. "Let me see, when do they come off? To-day week?" "Yes, you _must_ stay!" declared Ethel. "I think I can manage it, but I must certainly leave on the following day." "Shall we carry off the cup, Ted?" the girl went on, appealing to the ensign's _esprit de corps_ with a smile that went to his heart. The Aurungpore cup was now in the mess-room of the 193rd, and strenuous efforts were to be made to wrest it from the regiment. "I don't think anything is likely to beat 'The Padre' if Markham's knee will only get better." "Is the regiment putting its trust in Captain Markham's mount, then?" asked Jim. "Yes," replied the girl. "We have two other horses entered, but they say that neither of them will have a chance against Lieutenant Harrington's of the Ahmednuggur Irregulars, or Mr. Vernon's 'Flying Fox'." "Who's he?" "Mr. Vernon? Oh, he's a civilian--a 'duck'." "Madame!" exclaimed Jim, pretending to appear shocked beyond measure. "Yes, sir; a duck!" Ethel repeated, unabashed. "Please understand, madame, that you must henceforward apply that endearing epithet to no one save your affianced husband," Jim peremptorily ordered. "I shall certainly not apply it to you, Jim," replied the laughing girl. "I do respect you a little, you know."