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Gyp caught a side view of him, waving his hat from the carriage window. It was her acquaintance of the hunting-field the "Mr. Bryn Summer'ay," as old Pettance called him, who had bought her horse last year.
Close by, the horse, uneasy, put his head down and sniffed at her, then, backing away, neighed, and broke into a wild gallop round the field.... Old Pettance, waiting for Summerhay's return to stable-up for the night, heard that distant neigh and went to the garden gate, screwing up his little eyes against the sunset.
"Darling, go and ask Pettance to put a fresh piece of sulphur in Ossy's water-bowl, and to cut up his meat finer. You can give Hotspur and Brownie two lumps of sugar each; and then we'll go out." Going down on her knees in the porch, she parted the old dog's hair, and examined his eczema, thinking: "I must rub some more of that stuff in to-night. Oh, ducky, you're not smelling your best!
A voice from the path said, "Beautiful evenin', ma'am." The "old scoundrel," Pettance, stiffer in the ankle-joints, with more lines in his gargoyle's face, fewer stumps in his gargoyle's mouth, more film over his dark, burning little eyes, was standing before her, and, behind him, little Gyp, one foot rather before the other, as Gyp had been wont to stand, waited gravely. "Oh, Pettance, Mr.
And presently, over the rushy grass, a procession moved back in the wind and the moonlight two hurdles, two men carrying one, two women and a man the other, and, behind, old Pettance and the horse. When Gyp recovered a consciousness, whose flight had been mercifully renewed with morphia, she was in her bed, and her first drowsy movement was toward her mate.
Carry 'im well; 'e's a strong rider, too, and a good plucked one, but bad 'ands, I should say." "Yes, Pettance; I must go in now. Will you tell Annie I shall be round to-morrow, to see her?" "Very good, miss. 'Ounds meets at Filly Cross, seven-thirty. You'll be goin' out?" "Rather. Good-night." Flying back across the yard, Gyp thought: "'She rode beautiful! How jolly! I'm glad he's got my horse."
Gyp thought: 'I mustn't let him get off or I shall be late for dinner, and she said: "Oh, Pettance, who bought the young brown horse?" "Mr. Bryn Summer'ay, ma'am, over at Widrington, for an 'unter, and 'ack in town, miss." "Summerhay? Ah!"
And, like a rat in a cage, his mind tried to rush out of this entanglement now at one end, now at the other. Ah, well! Why bruise your head against walls? If it was hopeless let it go! And, shrugging his shoulders, he went out to the stables, and told old Pettance to saddle Hotspur.
And curious were her feelings light-hearted, compunctious, as of one who escapes yet knows she will soon be seeking to return. The meet was rather far next day, but she insisted on riding to it, since old Pettance, the superannuated jockey, charitably employed as extra stable help at Mildenham, was to bring on her second horse.
I says to the man: 'Don't you come it over me, I says; 'I was born on an 'orse. Talk of twenty pounds, for that pony! Ten, and lucky to get it! 'Well, he says, 'Pettance, it's no good to talk round an' round with you. Fifteen! he says. 'I'll throw you one in, I says, 'Eleven! Take it or leave it. 'Ah! he says, 'Pettance, YOU know 'ow to buy an 'orse.
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