‘Hillo!’ he cried, almost angrily, ‘you don’t deserve to have such a cob.’ (He _would_ call her a cob.) ‘You don’t know-how to use her. To jump her on to the hard like that!’ It was Clara with him!--on the steady stiff old brown horse! My first impulse was to jump my mare over the opposite fence, and take no heed, of them, but clearly it was not to be attempted, for the ground fell considerably on the other side. My next thought was to ride away and leave them. My third was one which some of my readers will judge Quixotic, but I have a profound reverence for the Don--and that not merely because I have so often acted as foolishly as he. This last I proceeded to carry out, and lifting-my hat, rode to meet them. Taking no notice whatever of Brotherton, I addressed Clara--in what I fancied a distant and dignified manner, which she might, if she pleased, attribute to the presence of her companion. ‘Miss Coningham,’ I said, ‘will you allow me the honour of offering you my mare? She will carry you better.’ ‘You are very kind, Mr Cumbermede,’ she returned in a similar tone, but with a sparkle in her eyes. ‘I am greatly obliged to you. I cannot pretend to prefer old crossbones to the beautiful creature which gave me so much pleasure yesterday.’ I was off and by her side in a moment, helping her to dismount. I did not even look at Brotherton, though I felt he was staring like an equestrian statue. While I shifted the saddles Clara broke the silence, which I was in too great an inward commotion to heed, by asking-- ‘What is the name of your beauty, Mr Cumbermede?’ ‘Lilith,’ I answered. ‘What a pretty name! I never heard it before. Is it after any one--any public character, I mean?’ ‘Quite a public character,’ I returned--‘Adam’s first wife.’ ‘I never heard he had two,’ she rejoined, laughing. ‘The Jews say he had. She is a demon now, and the pest of married women and their babies.’ ‘What a horrible name to give your mare!’ ‘The name is pretty enough. And what does it matter what the woman was, so long as she was beautiful.’ ‘I don’t quite agree with you there,’ she returned, with what I chose to consider a forced laugh. By this time her saddle was firm on Lilith, and in an instant she was mounted. Brotherton moved to ride on, and the mare followed him. Clara looked back. ‘You will catch us up in a moment,’ she said, possibly a little puzzled between us. I was busy tightening my girths, and fumbled over the job more than was necessary. Brotherton was several yards ahead, and she was walking the mare slowly after him. I made her no answer, but mounted, and rode in the opposite direction; It was rude of course, but I did it. I could not have gone with them, and was afraid, if I told her so, she would dismount and refuse the mare.