‘He might have expressed a decent regret on poor Kauffer’s account,’ I growled. Dora did not reply, and a glance showed her frowning. ‘I believe he apologized!’ I cried, pushing, as it were, my advantage. ‘He explained.’ ‘Oh!’ ‘Of course he hasn’t relished the position, and of course he didn’t realize it before he came. Shall we trot?’ I was compelled to negative the idea of trotting, since we were descending quite the steepest pitch of the road down to Annandale. We went on at a walk, and it occurred to me, as my contemplative gaze fell on my own pig-skins, that we were, even for Simla, an uncommonly well-turned-out pair. I had helped to pick Dora’s hack, and I allowed myself to reflect that he did my judgment credit. She sat him perfectly in her wrath--she was plainly angry--not a hair out of place. Why is it that a lady out of temper with her escort always walks away from him? Is her horse sympathetic? Ronald, at all events, was leading by a couple of yards, when suddenly he shied, bounding well across the road. The mare, whose manners I can always answer for, simply stopped and looked haughtily about for explanations. A path dropped into the road from the hillside; something came scrambling and stumbling down. ‘Oh!’ cried Dora, as it emerged and was Armour on his much enduring white pony, ‘how you frightened us!’ ‘Why don’t you stick to the road, man?’ I exclaimed. ‘It isn’t usual to put ponies up and down these coolie tracks!’ He took no notice of this rather broad hint that I was annoyed, but fixed his eager, light, luminous eyes upon Dora. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and added, ‘I did not expect to see you today!’ ‘Not till tomorrow,’ she returned. ‘You remember that we are sketching tomorrow?’ He looked at her and smiled slightly; and then I remember noticing that his full, arched upper lip seldom quite met its counterpart over his teeth. This gave an unpremeditated casual effect to everything he found to say, and made him look a dreamer at his busiest. His smile was at the folly of her reminder. ‘I’ve just been looking for something that you would like,’ he said, ‘but it isn’t much good hunting about alone. I see five times as much when we go together.’ He and his pony barred the way; he had an air of leisure and of felicity; one would think we had met at an afternoon party. ‘We are on our way,’ I explained, ‘to the gymkhana. Miss Harris is in one of the events. You did enter for the needle-threading race, didn’t you, with Lord Arthur? I think we must get on.’ A slow, dull red mounted to Armour’s face and seemed to put out that curious light in his eyes. ‘Is it far?’ he asked, glancing down over the tree-tops. ‘I’ve never been there.’ ‘Why,’ cried Dora, suddenly, ‘you’ve been down!’ ‘So you have,’ I confirmed her. ‘Your beast is damaged too.’ ‘Oh, it was only a stumble,’ Armour replied; ‘I stuck on all right.’