"You don't mean that you have bought him for me, sir! I know that Winstay refused eight hundred guineas for him." "I daresay," replied Sir Stephen.

"Why shouldn't I buy him for you, my boy?
There's another one in the box next that one; a little stiffer.
I'm told he's up to your weight and--" Stafford went into the box and looked at the horse.

It was a magnificent, light-weight hunter--the kind of horse that makes a riding-man's heart jump.
"I should say that there are not two better horses of their sort in the county," Stafford said, solemnly, and with a flush of his handsome face.
Sir Stephen's eyes gleamed.
"That's all right: they can't be too good, Stafford." The head groom, Davis by name, stood, with Pottinger and some underlings, at a little distance in attendance, and the men exchanged glances and nods.
"Have you seen these, Pottinger ?" asked Stafford, turning to him, and speaking in the tone which servants love.
Pottinger touched his forehead.
"Yes, sir; they're first rate, and no mistake.

I've just been telling Mr.Davis he's got a splendid lot, sir--splendid!" "Not but what your own pair 'ud be hard to beat, sir," said Davis, respectfully.

"There's a mare here, Sir Stephen, I should like to show Mr.Stafford." The mare was taken out into the yard, and Stafford examined her and praised her with a judgment and enthusiasm which filled Davis's heart with pride.
"Your young guv'nor's the right sort, Pottinger," he remarked as Stafford at last reluctantly tore himself away from the stables.