We can't all perform miracles on horseback, you know.

I came an awful cropper at that ugly hedge, to be sure, and your red horse went over me like a blaze of lightning! You owe me some atonement, and--of course you are going to the ball to-night ?" "Of course! I like balls even better than hunting." "And she dances better than she rides," put in her father, coming up.
"She is perfection in everything she undertakes, I am certain," Lord Ernest said, "and for that atonement I speak of, Miss Hunsden, I claim the first waltz." They rode together to Carteret Park.

Sir Everard had the privilege of assisting her to dismount.
"You must be fatigued, Miss Hunsden," he said.

"With a ball in prospective, after your hard gallop, I should recommend a long rest." "Sir Everard, I don't know the meaning of that word 'fatigue.' I never was tired in my life, and I am ready for the ball to-night, and a steeple-chase to-morrow." She tripped off as she spoke, with a mischievous glance.

She wanted to shock him, and she succeeded.
"Poor girl!" he thought, as he slowly turned homeward, "she is really dreadful.