endearing himself to Miss Christian by tales of the brace of hound
puppies that he was walking for the hunt.

The advantage of being the youngest member of a large family is one
that takes a considerable time to mature. Christian was thirteen years
old before what was left of one of the Hunt horses, after seven
strenuous seasons of official work, was placed at her sole disposal.
This residue, battered though it was, and a roarer of remarkable power
and volume, was incapable of falling, and with anything under eight
stone on its piebald back (piebald from incessant and sedulously
concealed saddle-galls) could always be trusted to keep within
reasonable distance of hounds when they ran. It was fortunate for
Christian that Judith, now sixteen, and far from a feather-weight, had
renounced her share in "Harry," and had established a right in the
grey mare. Judith was a buccaneer. Charles, the coachman, (in
connection with the commandeering of the grey mare, which he resented)
had said of her to his respected friend, Mr. Evans: "Ah, ah! That's
the young lady that'll get her whack out of the world!"

And Mr. Evans' reaping-hook nose had sniffed assent.

Yet, though Judith was averted, the Christmas holidays always held the
menace of brothers to be reckoned with as rival claimants for Harry.

"The boys, darling!" "Unselfishness, darling!" "After the holidays, my
child!"

Lady Isabel was of the school that inculcated self-denial for its
daughters, but never for its sons; (whether from a belief that such
was inherent in the male sex, or from a fear that the effort would be