Guy came home in great spirits; he had been admirably carried. He and
the first whip, a ten-stone man, were head and head at the last fence,
while the hounds were rolling over their fox, a hundred yards farther,
in the open.

After dinner he amused himself with teasing his cousin. At last he
asked her if she would lend him Bella Donna to hack to cover, as his own
favorite was rather lame.

Miss Raymond's indignation was superb; for, be it known, she was prouder
of the said animal than of any thing else in the world.

She (the mare, not the lady) was a bright bay, with black points, quite
thorough-bred, and as handsome as a picture. Livingstone had bought her
out of a training-stable, and had given her to his cousin, after having
broken her into a perfect light-weight hunter.

One of the few extravagances in which Mr. Raymond indulged his daughter
was allowing her to take Bella Donna wherever she went.

"Don't excite yourself, you small Amazon!" replied Guy to her indignant
refusal. "How you do believe in that mare! I wonder you don't put her
into some of the great Spring Handicaps! You would get her in light, and
might win enough to keep you in gloves for half a century."

"Well, I don't know," Forester's slow, languid voice suggested; "I think
she's faster, for three miles, than any thing in your stable. I should
like to run the best you have for £50, weight for inches."

"I am not surprised at your supporting Bella's opinion," said Guy, with