"Yes, she's just about up to my weight, isn't she? By-the-bye, you
haven't had her backed yet, I believe?"

"I'm going to try her to-day!" said Fanny with sudden resolve.

"Ride her yourself!" said Mr. Gunning, his eyebrows going up into the
roots of his hair.

"Yes!" said Fanny, with calm as icy as a sudden burst of struggles on
the part of the daughter would admit of.

Rupert Gunning hesitated; then he said, "Well, she ought to carry a
side-saddle well. Decent shoulders, and a nice long--" Perhaps he caught
Fanny Fitz's eye; at all events, he left the commendation unfinished,
and went on, "I should like to look in and see the performance, if I
may? I suppose you wouldn't let me try her first? No?"

He walked on.

"Puppy, _will_ you stay quiet!" said Fanny Fitz very crossly. She even
slapped the daughter's soap-sud muffled person, for no reason that the
daughter could see.

"Begorra, miss, I dunno," said Johnny Connolly dubiously when the
suggestion that the filly should be ridden there and then was made to
him a few minutes later; "wouldn't ye wait till I put her a few turns
under the cart, or maybe threw a sack o' oats on her back?"

But Fanny would brook no delay. Her saddle was in the harness-room:
William O'Loughlin could help to put it on; she would try the filly at