kind of hatred is by no means uncommon.

Mr. Preston, one of His Majesty's Secretaries of State, was, to tell the
truth, in a great fright upon his horse, and was glad to get away from
the kicking plunging brute. His pale face looked still paler than
before, and his hands and legs trembled, as he dismounted from the cob
and gave the reins to his servant. I disliked the looks of the chap--of
the master, I mean--at the first moment he came up, when he spoke rudely
to that nice gentle wife of his; and I thought he was a cowardly fellow,
as the adventure of the cob showed him to be. Heaven bless you! a baby
could have ridden it; and here was the man with his soul in his mouth at
the very first kick.

"Oh, quick! _do_ come in, Edmund," said Lady Fanny, laughing; and the
carriage steps being let down, and giving me a great scowl as he came in,
he was going to place himself in Lady Fanny's corner (I warrant you I
wouldn't budge from mine), when the little rogue cried out, "Oh, no! by
no means, Mr. Preston. Shut the door, Thomas. And oh! what fun it will
be to show all the world a Secretary of State riding bodkin!"

And pretty glum the Secretary of State looked, I assure you!

"Take my place, Edmund, and don't mind Fanny's folly," said Lady Jane,
timidly.

"Oh no! Pray, madam, don't stir! I'm comfortable, very comfortable; and
so I hope is this Mr.--this gentleman."

"Perfectly, I assure you," says I. "I was going to offer to ride your
horse home for you, as you seemed to be rather frightened at it; but the