"That's so," interposed Ted. "Old Jim's a good bit of an ass, you know, but he's not quite idiotic or depraved enough to be likened to a duck. Is Mr. Vernon a fool that you call him that?" "By no means; he's a most charming man. I simply intimated that until recently he has been employed in the Company's service in the Bombay Presidency. Haven't you learned that slang yet, Ted?" "No! What on earth do you mean?" "Well, if a man serves in Bengal he's a _Qui hy_; in Bombay he becomes a _duck_, and in Madras he's _benighted_. You know that you're a _griffin_,[1] I suppose?" [1] A new-comer--equivalent to the American "tenderfoot". "Oh, yes! I know that much." "In reply to your question, then, Jim, Mr. Vernon has not been here long; he owns a good horse, and he's a first-rate rider. One of your Guide officers is in too, is he not?" "Spencer means to have a try, and he'll take a lot of beating. The men of the Guides cavalry can ride, understand, and you ought to feel honoured that one is going to take the trouble to patronize your races." "Ah, well! the 193rd don't fear any officers of the Guides; do we, Ted?" "Not a bit! The Guides are only a lot of brigands!" he made answer. "Exactly. I keep telling your brother that it will go against the grain to marry a man in such a disreputable corps." Jim grinned. "Then give me back my freedom," said he. "I don't know what we shall do," continued the girl, treating this remark with the contempt it deserved, "if Captain Markham's knee refuses to get right. He's a perfect steeple-chaser, and it's as much through his handling as the merits of his horse that we hope to win the day. 'The Padre' is a most lovable animal, but this is his first steeple-chase." "Can no one take Markham's place, then, if he should be unable to ride?" "I'm afraid not. You see, none of our officers is first-class at the sport, and the two best are already engaged to ride their own mounts. So if 'The Padre's' owner doesn't ride--why, we shall lose the cup." Suddenly a bright and joyful idea seized upon the girl. "Why, Ted," she exclaimed, "I believe you could ride him!" "Oh, no! I don't know the horse, and I've never ridden in a flat race, much less a steeple-chase." "You'd do it very well," affirmed the elder brother, and praise from Jim was praise indeed. It was the first compliment he had paid the "young 'un" during the visit. "I'm sure you would, Ted," the girl affirmed. "Do--for the honour of the 193rd!" Flushed with excitement and with the glow of perfect health, Ethel Woodburn looked charming that winter morning. Needless to say that one man in the world thought so. Ted blushed at the compliment to his riding. "But what about Markham?" he objected. "I suppose you'll consult him first? It's hardly likely that he'd trust me on 'The Padre'." "That will be all right. I can manage Captain Markham." "Oh indeed, madame!" observed Jim. "Another wretched victim of your wiles, I suppose?"