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And so there will be, of course, said Mr Pomney. Theyll all be sporting with the young ladies in the laurel walks. Thems the sports they care most about nowadays. If you gets the young men at the quintain, youll have all the young women in the pouts. Cant they look on, as their great grandmothers did before them? said Miss Thorne. It seems to me that the ladies aint contented with looking nowadays. Whatever the men do theyll do. If youll have side saddles on the nags, and let them go at the quintain too, itll answer capital, no doubt. Miss Thorne made no reply. She felt that she had no good ground on which to defend her sex of the present generation, from the sarcasm of Mr Pomney. She had once declared, in one of her warmer moments, that nowadays the gentlemen were all women, and the ladies all men. She could not alter the debased character of the age. But such being the case, why should she take on herself to cater for the amusement of people of such degraded tastes? This question she asked herself more than once, and she could only answer herself with a sigh. There was her own brother Wilfred, on whose shoulders rested the all the ancient honours of Ullathorne House; it was very doubtful whether even he would consent to go at the quintain, as Mr Pomney not injudiciously expressed it. And now the morning arrived. The Ullathorne household was early on the move. Cooks were cooking in the kitchen long before daylight, and men were dragging out tables and hammering red baize on to benches at the earliest dawn. With what dread eagerness did Miss Thorne look out at the weather as soon as the parting veil of night permitted her to look at all! In this respect at any rate there was nothing to grieve her. The glass had been rising for the last three days, and the morning broke with that dull chill steady grey haze which in autumn generally presages a clear and dry day. By seven she was dressed and down. Miss Thorne knew nothing of the modern luxury of déshabilles. She would as soon have thought of appearing before her brother without her stockings as without her stays; and Miss Thornes stays were no trifle. And yet there was nothing for her to do when down. She fidgeted out to the lawn, and then back into the kitchen. She put on her highheeled clogs, and fidgeted out into the paddock. Then she went into the small home park where the quintain was erected. The pole and crossbar and the swivel, and the target and the bag of flour were all complete. She got up on a carpenters bench and touched the target with her hand; it went round with beautiful ease; the swivel had been oiled to perfection. She almost wished to take old Plomacy at his word, to go on a side saddle, and have a tilt at it herself. What must a young man be, thought she, who could prefer maundering among the trees with a wishywashy school girl to such fun as this? Well, said she aloud to herself, one man can take a horse to water, but a thousand cant make him drink. There it is. If they havent the spirit to enjoy it, the fault shant be mine; and so she returned the house. At a little after eight her brother came down, and they had a sort of scrap breakfast in his study. The tea was made without the customary urn, and they dispensed with the usual rolls and toast. Eggs were also missing, for every egg in the parish had been whipped into custards, baked into pies, or boiled into lobster salad. The allowances of fresh butter was short, and Mr Thorne was obliged to eat the leg of a fowl without having it devilled in the manner he loved. I have been looking at the quintain, Wilfred, said she, and it appears to be quite right. Oh,ah; yes; said he. It seemed to be so yesterday when I saw it. Mr Thorne was beginning to be rather bored by his sisters love of sports, and had especially no affection for this quintain post. I wish youd just try it after breakfast, said she. You could have the saddle put on Mark Antony, and the pole is there all handy. You can take the flour bag off, you know, if you think Mark Antony wont be quick enough, added Miss Thorne, seeing that her brothers countenance was not indicative of complete accordance with her little proposition. |
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