round in half an hour. He went back to her, took off her muzzle, fed her, and while she ate her corn put on the spurs he had prepared expressly for her use — a spike without a rowel, rather blunt, but sharp indeed when sharply used — like those of the Gauchos of the Pampas. Then he saddled her and rode her round. Having had her fit of temper, she was, to all appearance, going to be fairly good for the rest of the day, and looked splendid. She was a large mare, nearly thoroughbred, with more bone than usual for her breeding, which she carried triumphantly — an animal most men would have been pleased to possess and proud to ride. Florimel came to the door to see her, accompanied by Liftore, and was so delighted with the very sight of her that she sent at once to the stables for her own horse, that she might ride out attended by Malcolm. His lordship also ordered his horse.
They went straight to Rotten Row for a little gallop, and Kelpie was behaving very well for her.
"What did you have two such savages, horse and groom both, up from Scotland for, Florimel?" asked his lordship, as they cantered gently along the Row, Kelpie coming sideways after them, as if she would, fain alter the pairing of her legs.
Florimel turned and cast an admiring glance on the two. "Do you know I am rather proud of them," she asked. "He's a clumsy fellow, the groom; and for the mare, she's downright wicked," said Liftore.
"At least neither is a hypocrite," returned Florimel, with Malcolm's account of his quarrel with the factor in her mind. "The mare is just as wicked as she looks, and the man as good. Believe me, my lord, that man you call a savage never told a lie in his life!" As she spoke she looked him hard in the face, with her father in her eyes.
Liftore could not return the look with equal steadiness. It seemed for the moment to be inquiring too curiously. "I know what you mean," he said. "You don't believe my professions." As he spoke he edged his horse close up to hers. "But," he went on, "if I know that I speak the truth when I swear that I love every breath of wind that has but touched your dress as it passed, that I would die gladly for one loving touch of your hand, why should you, not let me ease my heart by saying so? Florimel, my life has been a different thing from the moment I saw you first. It has grown precious to me since I saw that it might be —— Confound the fellow! what's he about now with his horse-devil?"
For at that moment his lordship's horse, a high-bred but timid animal, sprang away from the side of Florimel's, and there stood Kelpie on her hind legs, pawing the air between him and his lady, and Florimel, whose old confidence in Malcolm was now more than revived, was laughing merrily at the discomfiture of his attempt at lovemaking. Her behavior and his own frustration put him in such a rage that, wheeling quickly round, he struck Kelpie, just as she dropped on all fours, a great cut with his whip across the haunches. She plunged and kicked violently, came within an inch of breaking his horse's leg, and flew across the rail into the park. Nothing could have suited Malcolm better. He did not punish her as he would have done had she been to blame, for he was always just to lower as well as higher animals, but he took her a great round at racing speed, while his mistress and her companion looked on, and every one in the Row stopped and stared. Finally, he hopped her over the rail again, and brought her up dripping and foaming to his mistress. Florimel's eyes were flashing, and Liftore looked still angry.
"Dinna du that again, my lord," said Malcolm. "Ye're no my maister; an' gien ye war, ye wad hae no richt to brak my neck."
"No fear of that. That's not how your neck will be broken, my man," said his lordship with an attempted laugh; for, though he was all the angrier that he was ashamed of what he had done, he dared not further wrong the servant before his mistress.
A policeman came up and laid his hand on Kelpie's bridle.
"Take care what you're about," said Malcolm: "the, mare's not safe. There's my mistress, the Marchioness of Lossie."
The man saw an ugly look in Kelpie's eye, withdrew his hand and turned to Florimel.
"My groom is not to blame," said she, "Lord Liftore struck his mare, and she became ungovernable."
The man gave a look at Liftore, seemed to take his likeness, touched his hat, and withdrew.
"You'd better ride the jade home," said Liftore.
Malcolm only looked at his mistress. She moved on and he followed.
He was not so innocent in the affair as he had seemed. The expression of Liftore's face as he drew nearer to Florimel
