a way you was in, miss, wasn't you? my! until you found it!'

Stephen took Elfride's slight foot upon his hand: 'One, two,
three, and up!' she said.

Unfortunately not so. He staggered and lifted, and the horse
edged round; and Elfride was ultimately deposited upon the ground
rather more forcibly than was pleasant. Smith looked all
contrition.

'Never mind,' said the vicar encouragingly; 'try again! 'Tis a
little accomplishment that requires some practice, although it
looks so easy. Stand closer to the horse's head, Mr. Smith.'

'Indeed, I shan't let him try again,' said she with a microscopic
look of indignation. 'Worm, come here, and help me to mount.'
Worm stepped forward, and she was in the saddle in a trice.

Then they moved on, going for some distance in silence, the hot
air of the valley being occasionally brushed from their faces by a
cool breeze, which wound its way along ravines leading up from the
sea.

'I suppose,' said Stephen, 'that a man who can neither sit in a
saddle himself nor help another person into one seems a useless
incumbrance; but, Miss Swancourt, I'll learn to do it all for your
sake; I will, indeed.'

'What is so unusual in you,' she said, in a didactic tone
justifiable in a horsewoman's address to a benighted walker, 'is