Mary also rode--on a donkey only, it is true--but Sir Louis found himself bound in gallantry to accompany her.

Mary's steed had answered every expectation, and proved himself very quiet; so quiet, that without the admonition of a cudgel behind him, he could hardly be persuaded into the demurest trot.

Now, as Sir Louis's horse was of a very different mettle, he found it rather difficult not to step faster than his inamorata; and, let it him struggle as he would, was generally so far ahead as to be debarred the delights of conversation.
When for the second time he proposed to accompany her, Mary did what she could to hinder it.

She saw that he had been rather ashamed of the manner in which his companion was mounted, and she herself would have enjoyed her ride much more without him.

He was an invalid, however; it was necessary to make much of him, and Mary did not absolutely refuse his offer.
"Lady Scatcherd," said he, as they were standing at the door previous to mounting--he always called his mother Lady Scatcherd--"why don't you have a horse for Miss Thorne?
This donkey is--is--really is, so very--very--can't go at all, you know ?" Lady Scatcherd began to declare that she would willingly have got a pony if Mary would have let her do so.
"Oh, no, Lady Scatcherd; not on any account.