Bryn Summer'ay, ma'am, over at Widrington, for an 'unter, and 'ack
in town, miss."
"Summerhay? Ah!" With a touch of the whip to her memory, Gyp recalled
the young man with the clear eyes and teasing smile, on the chestnut
mare, the bold young man who reminded her of somebody, and she added:
"That'll be a good home for him, I should think."
"Oh, yes, miss; good 'ome--nice gentleman, too. He come over here to see
it, and asked after you. I told 'im you was a married lady now, miss.
'Ah,' he said; 'she rode beautiful!' And he remembered the 'orse well.
The major, he wasn't 'ere just then, so I let him try the young un; he
popped 'im over a fence or two, and when he come back he says, 'Well,
I'm goin' to have 'im.' Speaks very pleasant, an' don't waste no
time--'orse was away before the end of the week. Carry 'im well; 'e's a
strong rider, too, and a good plucked one, but bad 'ands, I should say."
"Yes, Pettance; I must go in now. Will you tell Annie I shall be round
to-morrow, to see her?"
"Very good, miss. 'Ounds meets at Filly Cross, seven-thirty. You'll be
goin' out?"
"Rather. Good-night."
Flying back across the yard, Gyp thought: "'She rode beautiful!' How
jolly! I'm glad he's got my horse."
XXI
Still glowing from her morning in the saddle, Gyp started out next day
at noon on her visit to the "old scoundrel's" cottage.
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