AN OBJECT FOR SYMPATHY Miss Wildmere's indignant virtue was not soothed on the following morning, when, as she returned from a drive with Arnault, Graydon galloped up on a superb bay horse, and Madge so far forgot herself again as to rush to meet him with unaffected pleasure.

The champion of propriety paused in the distance to take an observation, for she thought she saw a cloud in the sky.
"What a beauty! what a grand arch of the neck he has! Oh, I'm just wild to be on him! Don't bribe me with horses, Graydon; I can resist anything else." "I am glad of the information.

A volume of thanks would not be worth half so much." "I thought the thanks were in my tone and manner." "So I thought, and am more than content; but, Madge, I am troubled about your riding him.

I fear he is a very Satan of a horse." "Nonsense! Wait till you see me mounted, and your fears will vanish.
People don't walk at Santa Barbara; they ride; every one rides.

If the horse don't tumble, there'll be no tumbling on my part.