A Lady of Quality. Frances Hodgson Burnett

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СКАЧАТЬ and ’twas in the tone of an imperial demand. “Where is he?”

      “Thy horse!” he echoed. “Which is thy horse then?”

      “Rake is my horse,” she answered—“the big black one. The man took him again;” and she ripped out a few more oaths and unchaste expressions, threatening what she would do for the man in question; the which delighted him more than ever. “Rake is my horse,” she ended. “None else shall ride him.”

      “None else?” cried he. “Thou canst not ride him, baggage!”

      She looked at him with scornful majesty.

      “Where is he?” she demanded. And the next instant hearing the beast’s restless feet grinding into the gravel outside as he fretted at having been kept waiting so long, she remembered what the stable-boy had said of having seen her favourite standing before the door, and struggling and dropping from the settle, she ran to look out; whereupon having done so, she shouted in triumph.

      “He is here!” she said. “I see him;” and went pell-mell down the stone steps to his side.

      Sir Jeoffry followed her in haste. ’Twould not have been to his humour now to have her brains kicked out.

      “Hey!” he called, as he hurried. “Keep away from his heels, thou little devil.”

      But she had run to the big beast’s head with another shout, and caught him round his foreleg, laughing, and Rake bent his head down and nosed her in a fumbling caress, on which, the bridle coming within her reach, she seized it and held his head that she might pat him, to which familiarity the beast was plainly well accustomed.

      “He is my horse,” quoth she grandly when her father reached her. “He will not let Giles play so.”

      Sir Jeoffry gazed and swelled with pleasure in her.

      “Would have said ’twas a lie if I had not seen it,” he said to himself. “ ’Tis no girl this, I swear. I thought ’twas my horse,” he said to her, “but ’tis plain enough he is thine.”

      “Put me up!” said his new-found offspring.

      “Hast rid him before?” Sir Jeoffry asked, with some lingering misgiving. “Tell thy Dad if thou hast rid him.”

      She gave him a look askance under her long fringed lids—a surly yet half-slyly relenting look, because she wanted to get her way of him, and had the cunning wit and shrewdness of a child witch.

      “Ay!” quoth she. “Put me up—Dad!”

      He was not a man of quick mind, his brain having been too many years bemuddled with drink, but he had a rough instinct which showed him all the wondrous shrewdness of her casting that last word at him to wheedle him, even though she looked sullen in the saying it. It made him roar again for very exultation.

      “Put me up, Dad!” he cried. “That will I—and see what thou wilt do.”

      He lifted her, she springing as he set his hands beneath her arms, and flinging her legs over astride across the saddle when she reached it. She was all fire and excitement, and caught the reins like an old huntsman, and with such a grasp as was amazing. She sat up with a straight, strong back, her whole face glowing and sparkling with exultant joy. Rake seemed to answer to her excited little laugh almost as much as to her hand. It seemed to wake his spirit and put him in good-humour. He started off with her down the avenue at a light, spirited trot, while she, clinging with her little legs and sitting firm and fearless, made him change into canter and gallop, having actually learned all his paces like a lesson, and knowing his mouth as did his groom, who was her familiar and slave. Had she been of the build ordinary with children of her age, she could not have stayed upon his back; but she sat him like a child jockey, and Sir Jeoffry, watching and following her, clapped his hands boisterously and hallooed for joy.

      “Lord, Lord!” he said. “There’s not a man in the shire has such another little devil—and Rake, ‘her horse,’ ” grinning—“and she to ride him so. I love thee, wench—hang me if I do not!”

      She made him play with her and with Rake for a good hour, and then took him back to the stables, and there ordered him about finely among the dogs and horses, perceiving that somehow this great man she had got hold of was a creature who was in power and could be made use of.

      When they returned to the house, he had her to eat her mid-day meal with him, when she called for ale, and drank it, and did good trencher duty, making him the while roar with laughter at her impudent child-talk.

      “Never have I so split my sides since I was twenty,” he said. “It makes me young again to roar so. She shall not leave my sight, since by chance I have found her. ’Tis too good a joke to lose, when times are dull, as they get to be as a man’s years go on.”

      He sent for her woman and laid strange new commands on her.

      “Where hath she hitherto been kept?” he asked.

      “In the west wing, where are the nurseries, and where Mistress Wimpole abides with Mistress Barbara and Mistress Anne,” the woman answered, with a frightened curtsey.

      “Henceforth she shall live in this part of the house where I do,” he said. “Make ready the chambers that were my lady’s, and prepare to stay there with her.”

      From that hour the child’s fate was sealed. He made himself her playfellow, and romped with and indulged her until she became fonder of him than of any groom or stable-boy she had been companions with before. But, indeed, she had never been given to bestowing much affection on those around her, seeming to feel herself too high a personage to show softness. The ones she showed most favour to were those who served her best; and even to them it was always favour she showed, not tenderness. Certain dogs and horses she was fond of, Rake coming nearest to her heart, and the place her father won in her affections was somewhat like to Rake’s. She made him her servant and tyrannised over him, but at the same time followed and imitated him as if she had been a young spaniel he was training. The life the child led, it would have broken a motherly woman’s heart to hear about; but there was no good woman near her, her mother’s relatives, and even Sir Jeoffry’s own, having cut themselves off early from them—Wildairs Hall and its master being no great credit to those having the misfortune to be connected with them. The neighbouring gentry had gradually ceased to visit the family some time before her ladyship’s death, and since then the only guests who frequented the place were a circle of hunting, drinking, and guzzling boon companions of Sir Jeoffry’s own, who joined him in all his carousals and debaucheries.

      To these he announced his discovery of his daughter with tumultuous delight. He told them, amid storms of laughter, of his first encounter with her; of her flogging him with his own crop, and cursing him like a trooper; of her claiming Rake as her own horse, and swearing at the man who had dared to take him from the stable to ride; and of her sitting him like an infant jockey, and seeming, by some strange power, to have mastered him as no other had been able heretofore to do. Then he had her brought into the dining-room, where they sat over their bottles drinking deep, and setting her on the table, he exhibited her to them, boasting of her beauty, showing them her splendid arm and leg and thigh, measuring her height, and exciting her to test the strength of the grip of her hand and the power of her little fist.

      “Saw you ever a wench like her?” he cried, as they all shouted with laughter and made jokes not too polite, but such as were of the sole kind they were given to. “Has any СКАЧАТЬ