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Updated: May 11, 2025
I suspected at once, and in a moment discovered plainly that Mr Coningham had struck her with his whip: there was a big weal on the fine skin of her hip and across, her croup. She shrunk like a hurt child when my hand approached the injured part, but moved neither hoof nor head. Having patted and petted and consoled her a little, I mounted and rode after Mr Coningham.
It would have made me conceited, ambitious, boastful: I don't know how many bad adjectives would have been necessary to describe me. 'It is all very well to be modest, but I venture to think differently. 'I should like to ask you one question, Mr Coningham, I said. 'As many as you please.
I resumed. 'Are you a good horsewoman, Miss Clara? I said, with a feel after the recovery of old privileges. 'I must not sing my own praises, Mr Wilfrid, she rejoined, 'but I have ridden in Rotten Row, and I believe without any signal disgrace. 'Have you got a side-saddle? I asked, dismounting. Mr Coningham spoke now. 'Don't you think Mr Cumbermede's horse a little too frisky for you, Clara?
Clara's hand was arrested on its way towards the bread, and her father's wine-glass hung suspended between the table and his lips. I laughed. 'By Jove! said Mr Coningham and added nothing, for amazement, but looked uneasily at his daughter, as if asking whether they had not said something awkward about me. 'It's Wilfrid! exclaimed Clara, in the tone of one talking in her sleep.
'Have I offended you, then, by asking you to meet me? I trusted you. I thought you would never misjudge me. 'I should be but too happy to find I had been unjust to you, Miss Coningham. I would gladly go on my knees to you to confess that fault, if I could only be satisfied of its existence. Assure me of it, and I will bless you. 'How strangely you talk! Some one has been maligning me. 'No one.
We can get that another time, if necessary. Then write, "Copied by me" and then your name and the date. It may be useful some time. Take it home and lay it with your grandmother's papers. 'There can be no harm in that, I said, as I folded it up, and put it in my pocket. 'I am greatly obliged to you for bringing me here, Mr Coningham.
I had a vague notion that this had something to do with my protection against the machinations of the man Coningham, the idea of whom was inextricably associated in my mind with that of the Prince of the Power of the Air, darting from the midst of the churning trees, on a horse whose streaming mane and flashing eyes indicated no true equine origin.
What if it should be your turn to nurse me now, Charley? He turned quite pale, his eyes opened wide, and he looked at me anxiously. Before morning I was aching all over: I had rheumatic fever. I saw no more of Clara. Mr Coningham came to bid me good-bye, and spoke very kindly.
But I thought we could easily arrange to leave him somewhere near until we returned. I spoke to Mr Coningham about it, who entered into my small scheme with the greatest kindness. Charley confided to me afterwards that he did not take to him he was too like an ape, he said.
I too was in terror for Charley, and certainly wasted no time in speculation. I went forward instantly, and put an arm round each. They woke up, as it were, and tried to laugh. But the laugh was worse than the stare. I hurried them out of the place. We came upon Mr Coningham round the next corner, amusing himself with the talk of the half-silly guide. 'Where are you going? he asked.
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