"Yes, a very fine horse, indeed. Steady, boy! Steady, now!" "A capital horse; but he needs a spirited hand like yours to manage him." "Whoa! Quiet, now!--poor fellow!" This last endearing address was checked by a sudden jolt, produced by a spasmodic movement of the horse, which shook the cavalier to his very centre. "Punish him well with your spurs, Mr. Stubb, and let him run; that's the way to cure him of his tricks. Suppose we try a race together." "Thank you, Miss Euston, but the fact is-- Whoa, boy! whoa!-- I mean, the stableman told me that he is rather short of breath." "O, never mind the stableman. Come, let's go." "Thank you, Miss Euston, I believe not to-day." "You astonish me. I will lay any bet you like--you shall name the wager--any thing you please." "Really, this is a little too bad!" soliloquized the horrified Mrs. Primrose. "Miss Euston, I entreat of you--I beg--that we may have no more racing. It is very dangerous, besides being----" "What is it besides being dangerous, Mrs. Primrose?" "_Very_ indecorous." "I am very sorry, for I have set my heart on a race with Mr. Stubb." "Mr. Morton," said the distressed lady, aside to that young gentleman, "you are a prudent and sober-minded person; pray use your influence." She was interrupted by a most uncanonical ejaculation from the author of her embarrassments, which, though couched in a foreign language, petrified her into silence. A sharp gust of wind had blown away Fanny's veil, and she was on the point of dashing off in pursuit of it. "Stop!" cried Morton, "you'll break your neck. Let me get it for you." The veil sailed away before the wind, and Morton spurred in pursuit, delighted to display his horsemanship before ladies, though it had no other merit than a tenacious seat and a kind of recklessness, the result of an excitable temperament. The ground was rough and broken, and studded with rocks and savin bushes, and as he galloped at a breakneck speed down the side of the hill, in a vain attempt to catch the veil flying, even Fanny held her breath. He secured his prize, as it caught against a bush, and returned to the road. "Now, Miss Euston," said Mrs. Primrose, looking folios at the offender, "I trust we shall be allowed to go on in peace." There was an interval of repose. Stubb regained his peace of mind. Miss Primrose, with whom he fancied himself in love, smiled upon him, and his self-conceit, before shaken in its stronghold, was returning in full force, when Fanny, who nourished a peculiar spite against this harmless blockhead, and whom that afternoon a very Satan of mischief seemed to possess, again rode to his side, and renewed her solicitations for a race. "Miss Euston," said Mrs. Primrose, "I am certain you would do nothing so unladylike as to force Mr. Stubb to race against his will. Consider the example you would set to Georgiana Gosling, who always imitates what she sees you do."