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"You won't see any death,"
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Nanny
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Colonel Inch will blood me."<|quote|>"You won't see any death,"</|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood
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at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."<|quote|>"You won't see any death,"</|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an
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John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."<|quote|>"You won't see any death,"</|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a
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more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."<|quote|>"You won't see any death,"</|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms
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land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."<|quote|>"You won't see any death,"</|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose
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in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."<|quote|>"You won't see any death,"</|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance;
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spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."<|quote|>"You won't see any death,"</|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big
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were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."<|quote|>"You won't see any death,"</|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the
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A Handful Of Dust
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said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.
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No speaker
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"You won't see any death,"<|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.</|quote|>"He can ride with them
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Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death,"<|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.</|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert,"
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at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death,"<|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.</|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a
|
Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death,"<|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.</|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't
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the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death,"<|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.</|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside
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on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death,"<|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.</|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling
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though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death,"<|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.</|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"
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chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death,"<|quote|>said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.</|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and
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A Handful Of Dust
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"He can ride with them as far as the covert,"
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Tony Last
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mile, and then through fields.<|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert,"</|quote|>Tony had said. "Yes, sir,
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main road for half a mile, and then through fields.<|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert,"</|quote|>Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm
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of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.<|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert,"</|quote|>Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would
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subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.<|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert,"</|quote|>Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get
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upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.<|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert,"</|quote|>Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins
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the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.<|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert,"</|quote|>Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse.
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her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.<|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert,"</|quote|>Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."
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resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields.<|quote|>"He can ride with them as far as the covert,"</|quote|>Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her
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A Handful Of Dust
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Tony had said.
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No speaker
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as far as the covert,"<|quote|>Tony had said.</|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be
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"He can ride with them as far as the covert,"<|quote|>Tony had said.</|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin'
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got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert,"<|quote|>Tony had said.</|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No,
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old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert,"<|quote|>Tony had said.</|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right
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out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert,"<|quote|>Tony had said.</|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked
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towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert,"<|quote|>Tony had said.</|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father
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to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert,"<|quote|>Tony had said.</|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't
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many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert,"<|quote|>Tony had said.</|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"
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Ben
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the covert," Tony had said.<|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "And
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with them as far as the covert," Tony had said.<|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards
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last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said.<|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with
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the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said.<|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close
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while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said.<|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out
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of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said.<|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He
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day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said.<|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing
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but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said.<|quote|>"Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed
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A Handful Of Dust
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"No, I suppose not."
|
Tony Last
|
see hounds working, would there?"<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"And if he breaks away
|
his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no
|
down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you,
|
lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed
|
see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he
|
about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper
|
to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come
|
were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?"<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth,
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"
|
Ben
|
there?" "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"</|quote|>"No, but he's not to
|
to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"</|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an
|
through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"</|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt
|
second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"</|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice
|
nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"</|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has
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deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"</|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss
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in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"</|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't
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cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"</|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying
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A Handful Of Dust
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"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."
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Tony Last
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and gates, would there, sir?"<|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."</|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take
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we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"<|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."</|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running,
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said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"<|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."</|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of
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sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"<|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."</|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get
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Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"<|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."</|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when
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at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"<|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."</|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint,
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the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"<|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."</|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still,
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of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?"<|quote|>"No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."</|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"
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Ben
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out more than an hour."<|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"</|quote|>"Well, he's got to be
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but he's not to stay out more than an hour."<|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"</|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see
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a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."<|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"</|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the
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moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."<|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"</|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben
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and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."<|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"</|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like
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met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."<|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"</|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway,
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pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."<|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"</|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So
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in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour."<|quote|>"You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"</|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Well, he's got to be in before one."
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Tony Last
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hounds running, would you, sir?"<|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one."</|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir.
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me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"<|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one."</|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"
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if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"<|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one."</|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of
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Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"<|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one."</|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ",
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Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"<|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one."</|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride
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the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"<|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one."</|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_
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she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"<|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one."</|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one
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her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?"<|quote|>"Well, he's got to be in before one."</|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"
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Ben
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to be in before one."<|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"</|quote|>he said to John, "you'll
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you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one."<|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"</|quote|>he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough."
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no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one."<|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"</|quote|>he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing
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a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one."<|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"</|quote|>he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to
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of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one."<|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"</|quote|>he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that
|
their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one."<|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"</|quote|>he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she
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from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one."<|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"</|quote|>he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near
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morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one."<|quote|>"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"</|quote|>he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said to John,
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No speaker
|
Don't you worry, my beauty,"<|quote|>he said to John,</|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right
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"I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"<|quote|>he said to John,</|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the
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to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"<|quote|>he said to John,</|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying
|
them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"<|quote|>he said to John,</|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch
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chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"<|quote|>he said to John,</|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well.
|
many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"<|quote|>he said to John,</|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the
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found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"<|quote|>he said to John,</|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached
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gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty,"<|quote|>he said to John,</|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that
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A Handful Of Dust
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"you'll get a hunt right enough."
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Ben
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beauty," he said to John,<|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough."</|quote|>They waited until the end
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sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John,<|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough."</|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses
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gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John,<|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough."</|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the
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the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John,<|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough."</|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like
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the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John,<|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough."</|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted
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from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John,<|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough."</|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew;
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work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John,<|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough."</|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben,
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biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John,<|quote|>"you'll get a hunt right enough."</|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse.
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A Handful Of Dust
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They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,
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No speaker
|
get a hunt right enough."<|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,</|quote|>"Hold on to her, son"
|
he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough."<|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,</|quote|>"Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up
|
he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough."<|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,</|quote|>"Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of
|
sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough."<|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,</|quote|>"Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd
|
terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough."<|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,</|quote|>"Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the
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also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough."<|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,</|quote|>"Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening,
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resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough."<|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,</|quote|>"Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last
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man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough."<|quote|>They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,</|quote|>"Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Hold on to her, son"
|
Ben
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so that Ben had said,<|quote|>"Hold on to her, son"</|quote|>", and had come up
|
round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,<|quote|>"Hold on to her, son"</|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as
|
low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,<|quote|>"Hold on to her, son"</|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle
|
got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,<|quote|>"Hold on to her, son"</|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode
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along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,<|quote|>"Hold on to her, son"</|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her,
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nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,<|quote|>"Hold on to her, son"</|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing
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but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,<|quote|>"Hold on to her, son"</|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up
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drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said,<|quote|>"Hold on to her, son"</|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago
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A Handful Of Dust
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", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.
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No speaker
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"Hold on to her, son"<|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.</|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very
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so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son"<|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.</|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone
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of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son"<|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.</|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment
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one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son"<|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.</|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within
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half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son"<|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.</|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine
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the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son"<|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.</|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had
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Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son"<|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.</|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't
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field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son"<|quote|>", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.</|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"
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John Andrew
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and looked guiltily at Ben.<|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"</|quote|>"That's all right, son. You
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the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.<|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"</|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when
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so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.<|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"</|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton
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Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.<|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"</|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss
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if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.<|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"</|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon
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animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.<|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"</|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop
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the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.<|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"</|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I
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upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben.<|quote|>"I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"</|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how
|
A Handful Of Dust
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"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."
|
Ben
|
D'you think anyone has noticed?"<|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."</|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted
|
I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"<|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."</|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather
|
like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"<|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."</|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according
|
the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"<|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."</|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse
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but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"<|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."</|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's
|
she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"<|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."</|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds
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John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"<|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."</|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in
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a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?"<|quote|>"That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."</|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I
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A Handful Of Dust
|
Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.
|
No speaker
|
riding-school manners when you're hunting."<|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.</|quote|>"I rather like this absurd
|
right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."<|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.</|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode
|
surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."<|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.</|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the
|
had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."<|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.</|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about
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have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."<|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.</|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty
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Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."<|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.</|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm
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doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."<|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.</|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that
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out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting."<|quote|>Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.</|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I rather like this absurd horse,"
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Mrs. Rattery
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Rattery trotted side by side.<|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse,"</|quote|>she said. She rode astride
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you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.<|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse,"</|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from
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balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.<|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse,"</|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers
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so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.<|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse,"</|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac.
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would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.<|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse,"</|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had
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a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.<|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse,"</|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening
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are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.<|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse,"</|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other
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secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side.<|quote|>"I rather like this absurd horse,"</|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating
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A Handful Of Dust
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she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.
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No speaker
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rather like this absurd horse,"<|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.</|quote|>"That girl will come to
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trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse,"<|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.</|quote|>"That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They
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front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse,"<|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.</|quote|>"That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook
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on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse,"<|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.</|quote|>"That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the
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to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse,"<|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.</|quote|>"That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and
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hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse,"<|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.</|quote|>"That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on
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near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse,"<|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.</|quote|>"That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay,
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breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse,"<|quote|>she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.</|quote|>"That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I
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A Handful Of Dust
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"That girl will come to no good,"
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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pulling with all her weight.<|quote|>"That girl will come to no good,"</|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her
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was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.<|quote|>"That girl will come to no good,"</|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her
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skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.<|quote|>"That girl will come to no good,"</|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and
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and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.<|quote|>"That girl will come to no good,"</|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in
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fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.<|quote|>"That girl will come to no good,"</|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one
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of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.<|quote|>"That girl will come to no good,"</|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's
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of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.<|quote|>"That girl will come to no good,"</|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away
|
a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight.<|quote|>"That girl will come to no good,"</|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last
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A Handful Of Dust
|
said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.
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No speaker
|
will come to no good,"<|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.</|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds
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all her weight. "That girl will come to no good,"<|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.</|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh."
|
Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good,"<|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.</|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near
|
pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good,"<|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.</|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I
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fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good,"<|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.</|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which,
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them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good,"<|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.</|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps
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more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good,"<|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.</|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone
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you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good,"<|quote|>said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.</|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better
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A Handful Of Dust
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"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"
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John Andrew
|
rode up to Jock's side.<|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"</|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert."
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veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.<|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"</|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?"
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the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.<|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"</|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that
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Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.<|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"</|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in
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over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.<|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"</|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it
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had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.<|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"</|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let
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earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.<|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"</|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was
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for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side.<|quote|>"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"</|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Hounds are drawing the covert."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"<|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert."</|quote|>"Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?"
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John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"<|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert."</|quote|>"Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh.
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was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"<|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert."</|quote|>"Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss
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business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"<|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert."</|quote|>"Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks
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rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"<|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert."</|quote|>"Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought
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to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"<|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert."</|quote|>"Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the
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confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"<|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert."</|quote|>"Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * *
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at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?"<|quote|>"Hounds are drawing the covert."</|quote|>"Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Oh."
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John Andrew
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"Hounds are drawing the covert."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh,
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side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've
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the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon,
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Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad."
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heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to
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had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house
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whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * *
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my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Are you enjoying yourself?"
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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are drawing the covert." "Oh."<|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?"</|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh.
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"What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh."<|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?"</|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like
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bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh."<|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?"</|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago
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she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh."<|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?"</|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were
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the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh."<|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?"</|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"
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come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh."<|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?"</|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the
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heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh."<|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?"</|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly
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was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh."<|quote|>"Are you enjoying yourself?"</|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."
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John Andrew
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"Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?"<|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."</|quote|>There was a long wait
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"Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?"<|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."</|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in
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rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?"<|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."</|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at
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at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?"<|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."</|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other
|
ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?"<|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."</|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But
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him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?"<|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."</|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present
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upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?"<|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."</|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where
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pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?"<|quote|>"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."</|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along
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A Handful Of Dust
|
There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,
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No speaker
|
never known her like this."<|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,</|quote|>"They're calling hounds off." "Does
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yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."<|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,</|quote|>"They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?"
|
Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."<|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,</|quote|>"They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and
|
bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."<|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,</|quote|>"They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?"
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Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."<|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,</|quote|>"They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it."
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she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."<|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,</|quote|>"They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better
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of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."<|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,</|quote|>"They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in
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the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this."<|quote|>There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,</|quote|>"They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses
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A Handful Of Dust
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"They're calling hounds off."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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half an hour Jock said,<|quote|>"They're calling hounds off."</|quote|>"Does that mean it's a
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gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,<|quote|>"They're calling hounds off."</|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I
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heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,<|quote|>"They're calling hounds off."</|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports
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as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,<|quote|>"They're calling hounds off."</|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could
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skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,<|quote|>"They're calling hounds off."</|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr
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when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,<|quote|>"They're calling hounds off."</|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this
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huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,<|quote|>"They're calling hounds off."</|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's
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she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said,<|quote|>"They're calling hounds off."</|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Does that mean it's a blank?"
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John Andrew
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said, "They're calling hounds off."<|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?"</|quote|>"I'm afraid so." "I hate
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After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off."<|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?"</|quote|>"I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"
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Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off."<|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?"</|quote|>"I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers
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veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off."<|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?"</|quote|>"I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert.
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to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off."<|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?"</|quote|>"I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go
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and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off."<|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?"</|quote|>"I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at
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Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off."<|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?"</|quote|>"I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone
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she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off."<|quote|>"Does that mean it's a blank?"</|quote|>"I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I'm afraid so."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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that mean it's a blank?"<|quote|>"I'm afraid so."</|quote|>"I hate this happening in
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"They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?"<|quote|>"I'm afraid so."</|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks
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the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?"<|quote|>"I'm afraid so."</|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed
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up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?"<|quote|>"I'm afraid so."</|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say
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eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?"<|quote|>"I'm afraid so."</|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock.
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side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?"<|quote|>"I'm afraid so."</|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping
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in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?"<|quote|>"I'm afraid so."</|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and
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Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?"<|quote|>"I'm afraid so."</|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home
|
A Handful Of Dust
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"I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"
|
Ben
|
a blank?" "I'm afraid so."<|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed
|
off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so."<|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning
|
near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so."<|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the
|
side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so."<|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as
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anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so."<|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went
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like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so."<|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode
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Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so."<|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery
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said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so."<|quote|>"I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him.
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A Handful Of Dust
|
said Ben.
|
No speaker
|
this happening in _our_ woods,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton
|
"I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget
|
say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They
|
drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he
|
on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one
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rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she
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coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car
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the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Looks bad."
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Ben
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in _our_ woods," said Ben.<|quote|>"Looks bad."</|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already
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so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben.<|quote|>"Looks bad."</|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality
|
Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben.<|quote|>"Looks bad."</|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off
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covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben.<|quote|>"Looks bad."</|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to
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horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben.<|quote|>"Looks bad."</|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he
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and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben.<|quote|>"Looks bad."</|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the
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of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben.<|quote|>"Looks bad."</|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get
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lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben.<|quote|>"Looks bad."</|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth
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A Handful Of Dust
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Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.
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No speaker
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woods," said Ben. "Looks bad."<|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.</|quote|>"D'you think I ought to
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hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad."<|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.</|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home,
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who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad."<|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.</|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've
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"Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad."<|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.</|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."
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she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad."<|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.</|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad
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was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad."<|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.</|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also
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suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad."<|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.</|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking.
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was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad."<|quote|>Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.</|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present
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A Handful Of Dust
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"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"
|
Ben
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began to feel his responsibility.<|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"</|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?"
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again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.<|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"</|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go
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and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.<|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"</|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you
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middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.<|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"</|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's
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that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.<|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"</|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said.
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of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.<|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"</|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a
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eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.<|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"</|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the
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she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility.<|quote|>"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"</|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with
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A Handful Of Dust
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"What did Mr Last say?"
|
Jock Grant-Menzies
|
the young gentleman home, sir?"<|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?"</|quote|>"He said he could go
|
think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"<|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?"</|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert.
|
did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"<|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?"</|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time
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half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"<|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?"</|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it."
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breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"<|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?"</|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with
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getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"<|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?"</|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor
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"he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"<|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?"</|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning
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the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?"<|quote|>"What did Mr Last say?"</|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I
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A Handful Of Dust
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"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."
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Ben
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"What did Mr Last say?"<|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."</|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as
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the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?"<|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."</|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."
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to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?"<|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."</|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another
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"They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?"<|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."</|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's
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as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?"<|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."</|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr
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van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?"<|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."</|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be
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they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?"<|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."</|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base
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said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?"<|quote|>"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."</|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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He didn't say which, sir."<|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."</|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come
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as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."<|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."</|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had
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burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."<|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."</|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may
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this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."<|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."</|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and
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happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."<|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."</|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and
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the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."<|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."</|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll
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Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."<|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."</|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid.
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noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir."<|quote|>"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."</|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle
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A Handful Of Dust
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"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"
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John Andrew
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if he ought to go."<|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"</|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John.
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"I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."<|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"</|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."
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away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."<|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"</|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an
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the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."<|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"</|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another.
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you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."<|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"</|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the
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widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."<|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"</|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold
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then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."<|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"</|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to
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ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go."<|quote|>"_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"</|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."
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Ben
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to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"<|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."</|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_."
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sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"<|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."</|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in
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Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"<|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."</|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame
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already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"<|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."</|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main
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"Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"<|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."</|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his
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ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"<|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."</|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a
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"He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"<|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."</|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril
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a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_"<|quote|>"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."</|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"But I haven't had _any_."
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John Andrew
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You've had enough for to-day."<|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_."</|quote|>"If you come back in
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"Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."<|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_."</|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad
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to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."<|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_."</|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said
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other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."<|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_."</|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to
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this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."<|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_."</|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think
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Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."<|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_."</|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as
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Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."<|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_."</|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman
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at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day."<|quote|>"But I haven't had _any_."</|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this
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A Handful Of Dust
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"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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"But I haven't had _any_."<|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."</|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another
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You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_."<|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."</|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come
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home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_."<|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."</|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate
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when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_."<|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."</|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks
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wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_."<|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."</|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man
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trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_."<|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."</|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like
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and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_."<|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."</|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said
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fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_."<|quote|>"If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."</|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped
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A Handful Of Dust
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"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."
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John Andrew
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you come out another day."<|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."</|quote|>"It is a shame they
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the more willing to let you come out another day."<|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."</|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben.
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afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."<|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."</|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as
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Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."<|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."</|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad
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Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."<|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."</|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss
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a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."<|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."</|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment
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breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."<|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."</|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben.
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father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day."<|quote|>"But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."</|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"
|
Ben
|
_Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."<|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"</|quote|>said Ben. "He's been looking
|
may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."<|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"</|quote|>said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I
|
had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."<|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"</|quote|>said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben,
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"D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."<|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"</|quote|>said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him
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middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."<|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"</|quote|>said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean...
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of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."<|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"</|quote|>said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear,
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lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."<|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"</|quote|>said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr
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to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies."<|quote|>"It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"</|quote|>said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood.
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Ben.
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No speaker
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shame they shouldn't have found,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"He's been looking forward to
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Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr
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_any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage
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gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she
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Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't
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an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back
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he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making
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Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she
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A Handful Of Dust
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"He's been looking forward to it."
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Ben
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shouldn't have found," said Ben.<|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it."</|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last
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"It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben.<|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it."</|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go
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you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben.<|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it."</|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on
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sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben.<|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it."</|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with
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After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben.<|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it."</|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better
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of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben.<|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it."</|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp
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to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben.<|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it."</|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's
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to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben.<|quote|>"He's been looking forward to it."</|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"
|
Jock Grant-Menzies
|
been looking forward to it."<|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"</|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate
|
have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it."<|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"</|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in
|
to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it."<|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"</|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had
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"He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it."<|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"</|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village.
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"They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it."<|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"</|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that
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skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it."<|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"</|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm;
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hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it."<|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"</|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone
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you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it."<|quote|>"Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"</|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard
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A Handful Of Dust
|
said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.
|
No speaker
|
want him to go back,"<|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.</|quote|>"Look," said Ben, to encourage
|
I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"<|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.</|quote|>"Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon
|
you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"<|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.</|quote|>"Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance.
|
didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"<|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.</|quote|>"Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present
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afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"<|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.</|quote|>"Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn
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pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"<|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.</|quote|>"Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from
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would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"<|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.</|quote|>"Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that
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gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back,"<|quote|>said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.</|quote|>"Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Look,"
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Ben
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they reached the main road.<|quote|>"Look,"</|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him.
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was very near tears as they reached the main road.<|quote|>"Look,"</|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on
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shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.<|quote|>"Look,"</|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm
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I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.<|quote|>"Look,"</|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state.
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what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.<|quote|>"Look,"</|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in
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bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.<|quote|>"Look,"</|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the
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hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.<|quote|>"Look,"</|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school...
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over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road.<|quote|>"Look,"</|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss.
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Ben, to encourage him.
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No speaker
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reached the main road. "Look,"<|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him.</|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on
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very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look,"<|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him.</|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as
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have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look,"<|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him.</|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said.
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haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look,"<|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him.</|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come
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did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look,"<|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him.</|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face
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was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look,"<|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him.</|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the
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right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look,"<|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him.</|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her
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of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look,"<|quote|>said Ben, to encourage him.</|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."
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Ben
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said Ben, to encourage him.<|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."</|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back
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reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him.<|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."</|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and
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been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him.<|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."</|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let
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come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him.<|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."</|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said
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did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him.<|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."</|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the
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pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him.<|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."</|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your
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the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him.<|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."</|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to
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eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him.<|quote|>"Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."</|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit
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A Handful Of Dust
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Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance.
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No speaker
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by the looks of her."<|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance.</|quote|>"I'm taking him away," she
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in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."<|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance.</|quote|>"I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything
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hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."<|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance.</|quote|>"I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present
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mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."<|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance.</|quote|>"I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At
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in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."<|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance.</|quote|>"I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport,
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was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."<|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance.</|quote|>"I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the
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in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."<|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance.</|quote|>"I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with
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an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her."<|quote|>Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance.</|quote|>"I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in
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A Handful Of Dust
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she said.
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No speaker
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disappearance. "I'm taking him away,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I can't do anything with
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bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged
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encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come
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Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think
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home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a
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out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one
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was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony
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evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and
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A Handful Of Dust
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She jogged along beside them towards the village.
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No speaker
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anything with him this morning."<|quote|>She jogged along beside them towards the village.</|quote|>"I thought perhaps Mr Last
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she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning."<|quote|>She jogged along beside them towards the village.</|quote|>"I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up
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Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning."<|quote|>She jogged along beside them towards the village.</|quote|>"I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this
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Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning."<|quote|>She jogged along beside them towards the village.</|quote|>"I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that
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could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning."<|quote|>She jogged along beside them towards the village.</|quote|>"I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse
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with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning."<|quote|>She jogged along beside them towards the village.</|quote|>"I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double,
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had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning."<|quote|>She jogged along beside them towards the village.</|quote|>"I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece
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chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning."<|quote|>She jogged along beside them towards the village.</|quote|>"I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
she added loyally.
|
No speaker
|
think what's come over him,"<|quote|>she added loyally.</|quote|>"He was out on Saturday.
|
his present state. I can't think what's come over him,"<|quote|>she added loyally.</|quote|>"He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like
|
do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him,"<|quote|>she added loyally.</|quote|>"He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better
|
Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him,"<|quote|>she added loyally.</|quote|>"He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of
|
in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him,"<|quote|>she added loyally.</|quote|>"He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved
|
sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him,"<|quote|>she added loyally.</|quote|>"He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting
|
her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him,"<|quote|>she added loyally.</|quote|>"He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her
|
There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him,"<|quote|>she added loyally.</|quote|>"He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
"He wants a man up,"
|
Ben
|
known him like this before."<|quote|>"He wants a man up,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Oh, he's no
|
out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before."<|quote|>"He wants a man up,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and
|
thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before."<|quote|>"He wants a man up,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other
|
fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before."<|quote|>"He wants a man up,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses,
|
come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before."<|quote|>"He wants a man up,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it,
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field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before."<|quote|>"He wants a man up,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five
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he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before."<|quote|>"He wants a man up,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that
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were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before."<|quote|>"He wants a man up,"</|quote|>said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement.
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Ben.
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No speaker
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"He wants a man up,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Oh, he's no better with
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known him like this before." "He wants a man up,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't
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let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They
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her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver
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there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it
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that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before,
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front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John.
|
which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from
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A Handful Of Dust
|
said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion.
|
No speaker
|
daddy won't go near him,"<|quote|>said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion.</|quote|>"At least... I mean... I
|
better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him,"<|quote|>said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion.</|quote|>"At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be
|
like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him,"<|quote|>said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion.</|quote|>"At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a
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a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him,"<|quote|>said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion.</|quote|>"At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's
|
Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him,"<|quote|>said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion.</|quote|>"At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running
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in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him,"<|quote|>said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion.</|quote|>"At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on
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riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him,"<|quote|>said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion.</|quote|>"At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a
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feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him,"<|quote|>said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion.</|quote|>"At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and
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A Handful Of Dust
|
He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,
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No speaker
|
with him in this state."<|quote|>He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,</|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss.
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that they'd be any better with him in this state."<|quote|>He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,</|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too
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I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state."<|quote|>He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,</|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it
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along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state."<|quote|>He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,</|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did
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would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state."<|quote|>He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,</|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's
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that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state."<|quote|>He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,</|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very
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Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state."<|quote|>He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,</|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she
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girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state."<|quote|>He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,</|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * *
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."
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Ben
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be difficult, stopped. Ben said,<|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."</|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she
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Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,<|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."</|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact
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slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,<|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."</|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently
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rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,<|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."</|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from
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come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,<|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."</|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where
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as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,<|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."</|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and
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round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,<|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."</|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I
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forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said,<|quote|>"Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."</|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent.
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A Handful Of Dust
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Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.
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No speaker
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just give him a tap."<|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.</|quote|>"Take a hold of him,
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hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."<|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.</|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted
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was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."<|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.</|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent
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in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."<|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.</|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the
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state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."<|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.</|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to
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I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."<|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.</|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get
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Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."<|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.</|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood
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Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap."<|quote|>Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.</|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"
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Ben
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plunge away from the bus.<|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"</|quote|>shouted Ben. "The boy's down."
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rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.<|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"</|quote|>shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the
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alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.<|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"</|quote|>shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's
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Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.<|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"</|quote|>shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before,
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not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.<|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"</|quote|>shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs
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Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.<|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"</|quote|>shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say
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encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.<|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"</|quote|>shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to
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moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus.<|quote|>"Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"</|quote|>shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then
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A Handful Of Dust
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shouted Ben.
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No speaker
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him, Miss. Use your whip,"<|quote|>shouted Ben.</|quote|>"The boy's down." She hit
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bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"<|quote|>shouted Ben.</|quote|>"The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected
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what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"<|quote|>shouted Ben.</|quote|>"The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. *
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seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"<|quote|>shouted Ben.</|quote|>"The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been
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slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"<|quote|>shouted Ben.</|quote|>"The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They
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Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"<|quote|>shouted Ben.</|quote|>"The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"
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sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"<|quote|>shouted Ben.</|quote|>"The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to
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disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip,"<|quote|>shouted Ben.</|quote|>"The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to
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A Handful Of Dust
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She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.
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No speaker
|
shouted Ben. "The boy's down."<|quote|>She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.</|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing,"
|
him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down."<|quote|>She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.</|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed
|
and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down."<|quote|>She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.</|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking.
|
get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down."<|quote|>She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.</|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in
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drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down."<|quote|>She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.</|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get
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covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down."<|quote|>She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.</|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how
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bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in the corner of the big field, near a gate. Everyone, that is to say, except Miss Ripon, who some minutes ago had disappeared suddenly, indeed in the middle of a sentence, at full gallop towards Hetton Hills. After half an hour Jock said, "They're calling hounds off." "Does that mean it's a blank?" "I'm afraid so." "I hate this happening in _our_ woods," said Ben. "Looks bad." Indeed the Pigstanton were already beginning to forget their hospitality and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down."<|quote|>She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.</|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss
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and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down."<|quote|>She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.</|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor
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A Handful Of Dust
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"It's the most appalling thing,"
|
Jock Grant-Menzies
|
to see to the hirelings.<|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing,"</|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed
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home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.<|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing,"</|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are
|
shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.<|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing,"</|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about,
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Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.<|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing,"</|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and
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side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.<|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing,"</|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that
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happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.<|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing,"</|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell
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and to ask each other what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.<|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing,"</|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good,
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him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings.<|quote|>"It's the most appalling thing,"</|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child,
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Jock in the borrowed car.
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No speaker
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"It's the most appalling thing,"<|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car.</|quote|>"What on earth are we
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to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing,"<|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car.</|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"
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place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing,"<|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car.</|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the
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they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing,"<|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car.</|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben
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the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing,"<|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car.</|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her
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in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing,"<|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car.</|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have
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what did one expect when Last did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing,"<|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car.</|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter
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him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing,"<|quote|>said Jock in the borrowed car.</|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He
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A Handful Of Dust
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"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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Jock in the borrowed car.<|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"</|quote|>"I'm the last person to
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the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car.<|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"</|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion
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made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car.<|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"</|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going.
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covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car.<|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"</|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body
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road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car.<|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"</|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the
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to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car.<|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"</|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to
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did not hunt himself, and to circulate dark reports of how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car.<|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"</|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was
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seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car.<|quote|>"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"</|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"
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Mrs. Rattery
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going to say to Tony?"<|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"</|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed
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"What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"<|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"</|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident;
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but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"<|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"</|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the
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the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"<|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"</|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben.
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plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"<|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"</|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going
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covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"<|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"</|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things
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how one of the keepers had been observed last week burying Something late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"<|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"</|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had
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behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?"<|quote|>"I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"</|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I...
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A Handful Of Dust
|
said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going.
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No speaker
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on an occasion like this,"<|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going.</|quote|>"Killed instantly," he said. "Took
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last person to have about on an occasion like this,"<|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going.</|quote|>"Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base
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and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"<|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going.</|quote|>"Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body
|
minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"<|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going.</|quote|>"Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * *
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your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"<|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going.</|quote|>"Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone
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the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"<|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going.</|quote|>"Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but
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late in the evening. They moved off again, away from Hetton. Ben began to feel his responsibility. "D'you think I ought to take the young gentleman home, sir?" "What did Mr Last say?" "He said he could go as far as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"<|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going.</|quote|>"Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for
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like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this,"<|quote|>said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going.</|quote|>"Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go,"
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said.
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No speaker
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coat, just going. "Killed instantly,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Took it full on the
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doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Took it full on the base of the skull. Very
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last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants'
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the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony
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he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert."
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that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly
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as the covert. He didn't say which, sir." "I'm afraid it sounds as if he ought to go." "_Oh, Mr Menzies!_" "Yes, come along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell
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bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will
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A Handful Of Dust
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Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.
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No speaker
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No one to blame, though."<|quote|>Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.</|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault,"
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awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though."<|quote|>Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.</|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's
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people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though."<|quote|>Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.</|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was
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see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though."<|quote|>Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.</|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get
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before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though."<|quote|>Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.</|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a
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on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though."<|quote|>Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.</|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so
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along, Master John. You've had enough for to-day." "But I haven't had _any_." "If you come back in good time to-day your dad will be all the more willing to let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though."<|quote|>Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.</|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs
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and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though."<|quote|>Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.</|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going
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A Handful Of Dust
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"It wasn't the kid's fault,"
|
Ben
|
were in the servants' hall.<|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault,"</|quote|>said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's
|
helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.<|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault,"</|quote|>said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had
|
it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.<|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault,"</|quote|>said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The
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have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.<|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault,"</|quote|>said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are
|
kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.<|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault,"</|quote|>said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what
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Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.<|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault,"</|quote|>said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get
|
let you come out another day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.<|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault,"</|quote|>said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go
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nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall.<|quote|>"It wasn't the kid's fault,"</|quote|>said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up
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A Handful Of Dust
|
said Ben.
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No speaker
|
"It wasn't the kid's fault,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they
|
were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy
|
of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing
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like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going
|
which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that
|
like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a
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day." "But there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by
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like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"It wasn't anyone's fault,"
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Unknowable
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the kid's fault," said Ben.<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. "He'd had a
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the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben.<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little
|
skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben.<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock
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said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben.<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"
|
minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben.<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't
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but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben.<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men
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there mayn't _be_ another day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben.<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here
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agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben.<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked
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A Handful Of Dust
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they said.
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No speaker
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Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said.</|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day,
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wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said.</|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said
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fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said.</|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in,
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passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said.</|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was
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proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said.</|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd
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though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said.</|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in
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day. The world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said.</|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady
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rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said.</|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"
|
Ben
|
wasn't anyone's fault," they said.<|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"</|quote|>said Ben. "If it was
|
kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said.<|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"</|quote|>said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr
|
the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said.<|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"</|quote|>said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where
|
scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said.<|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"</|quote|>said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands
|
they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said.<|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"</|quote|>said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was
|
would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said.<|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"</|quote|>said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up
|
world may come to an end. _Please_, Ben. _Please_, Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said.<|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"</|quote|>said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No,
|
minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said.<|quote|>"He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"</|quote|>said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
said Ben.
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No speaker
|
day, too, poor little bastard,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault
|
said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making
|
there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get
|
about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the
|
orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the
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that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing
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Mr Menzies." "It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay."
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hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard,"<|quote|>said Ben.</|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the
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A Handful Of Dust
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"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."
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Ben
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poor little bastard," said Ben.<|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they
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had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben.<|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * *
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tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben.<|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the
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There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben.<|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You
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shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben.<|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her.
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the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben.<|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch
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"It is a shame they shouldn't have found," said Ben. "He's been looking forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben.<|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would...
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on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben.<|quote|>"If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."</|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will
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A Handful Of Dust
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"It wasn't anyone's fault,"
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Unknowable
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Grant-Menzies making him go in."<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. * * *
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anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone
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men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has
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doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were
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for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling.
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with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she
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forward to it." "Still, I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it
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where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in."<|quote|>"It wasn't anyone's fault,"</|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood
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A Handful Of Dust
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they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,
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No speaker
|
in." "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,</|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda."
|
Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,</|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get
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bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,</|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent.
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his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,</|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and
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of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,</|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It
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For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,</|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer
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I think Mr Last would want him to go back," said Jock. So John's fate was decided; hounds went in one direction, he and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,</|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all
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the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault,"<|quote|>they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,</|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped
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A Handful Of Dust
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"We've got to tell Brenda."
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Tony Last
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when Jock came in, was,<|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda."</|quote|>"D'you know where to get
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The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,<|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda."</|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that
|
had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,<|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda."</|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace
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kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,<|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda."</|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that
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home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,<|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda."</|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said
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and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,<|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda."</|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He
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and Ben in another. John was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,<|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda."</|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to
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in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was,<|quote|>"We've got to tell Brenda."</|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to
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A Handful Of Dust
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"D'you know where to get her?"
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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"We've got to tell Brenda."<|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?"</|quote|>"She's probably at that school...
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when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda."<|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?"</|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her
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poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda."<|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?"</|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets
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though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda."<|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?"</|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."
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to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda."<|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?"</|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are
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into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda."<|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?"</|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear
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was very near tears as they reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda."<|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?"</|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call
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Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda."<|quote|>"D'you know where to get her?"</|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to
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A Handful Of Dust
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"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"
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Tony Last
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know where to get her?"<|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"</|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood
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got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?"<|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"</|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his
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it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?"<|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"</|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them
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also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?"<|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"</|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't
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the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?"<|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"</|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's
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John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?"<|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"</|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to
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reached the main road. "Look," said Ben, to encourage him. "Here comes Miss Ripon on that nappy bay. Seems as if she's going in, too. Had a fall by the looks of her." Miss Ripon's hat and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?"<|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"</|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her
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plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?"<|quote|>"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"</|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say
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A Handful Of Dust
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Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,
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No speaker
|
going to say to her?"<|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,</|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were
|
What on earth are we going to say to her?"<|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,</|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on
|
came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"<|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,</|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall
|
they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"<|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,</|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told
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passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"<|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,</|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest
|
"The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"<|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,</|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten
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and back were covered with mud and moss. She had had a bad twenty minutes after her disappearance. "I'm taking him away," she said. "I can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"<|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,</|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the
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sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?"<|quote|>Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,</|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You weren't anywhere near, were you?"
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Tony Last
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to Tony. Presently Tony said,<|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?"</|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to
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his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,<|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?"</|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of
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the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,<|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?"</|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped
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in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,<|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?"</|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She
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The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,<|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?"</|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal,
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his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,<|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?"</|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock.
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can't do anything with him this morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,<|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?"</|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to
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as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said,<|quote|>"You weren't anywhere near, were you?"</|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"No, we'd gone on to another covert."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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weren't anywhere near, were you?"<|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert."</|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's
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Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?"<|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert."</|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we
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there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?"<|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert."</|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in
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said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?"<|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert."</|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent
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coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?"<|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert."</|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly
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John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?"<|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert."</|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the
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morning." She jogged along beside them towards the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?"<|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert."</|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left
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lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?"<|quote|>"No, we'd gone on to another covert."</|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and
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A Handful Of Dust
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"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."
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Tony Last
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gone on to another covert."<|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."</|quote|>"Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just
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near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert."<|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."</|quote|>"Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty
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get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert."<|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."</|quote|>"Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's
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was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert."<|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."</|quote|>"Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are
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"Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert."<|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."</|quote|>"Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought
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bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert."<|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."</|quote|>"Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving
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the village. "I thought perhaps Mr Last would let me come up to the house and telephone for the car. I don't feel like hacking him home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert."<|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."</|quote|>"Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left the room, Tony said, "An atrocious suggestion." "Oh, I don't know. He's very anxious to be helpful." "They don't like him much as Master." Jock left
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amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert."<|quote|>"That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."</|quote|>"Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Miss Ripon?"
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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It's awful for the girl."<|quote|>"Miss Ripon?"</|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she
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told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."<|quote|>"Miss Ripon?"</|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too,
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of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."<|quote|>"Miss Ripon?"</|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having
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"She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."<|quote|>"Miss Ripon?"</|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going
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also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."<|quote|>"Miss Ripon?"</|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in
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and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."<|quote|>"Miss Ripon?"</|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She
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home in his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."<|quote|>"Miss Ripon?"</|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left the room, Tony said, "An atrocious suggestion." "Oh, I don't know. He's very anxious to be helpful." "They don't like him much as Master." Jock left soon after
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up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl."<|quote|>"Miss Ripon?"</|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."
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Tony Last
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for the girl." "Miss Ripon?"<|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."</|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault.
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all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?"<|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."</|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it,"
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breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?"<|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."</|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to
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at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?"<|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."</|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence...
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Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?"<|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."</|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No,
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Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?"<|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."</|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here
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his present state. I can't think what's come over him," she added loyally. "He was out on Saturday. I've never known him like this before." "He wants a man up," said Ben. "Oh, he's no better with the groom, and daddy won't go near him," said Miss Ripon, stung to indiscretion. "At least... I mean... I don't think that they'd be any better with him in this state." He was quiet enough at that moment, keeping pace with the other horses. They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?"<|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."</|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left the room, Tony said, "An atrocious suggestion." "Oh, I don't know. He's very anxious to be helpful." "They don't like him much as Master." Jock left soon after half-past two. Tony and Mrs Rattery had coffee in the library. "I'm afraid this is a very difficult situation," said Tony. "After all we scarcely know each other." "You don't have to think about me." "But it must be awful for you." "And you must stop thinking that." "I'll try... the absurd thing is that I'm not thinking it, just saying it... I keep thinking of other things all the time." "I know. You don't have to say anything." Presently Tony
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Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?"<|quote|>"Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."</|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and
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A Handful Of Dust
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"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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car... it wasn't her fault."<|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."</|quote|>"That's it," said Tony. "It
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sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."<|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."</|quote|>"That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we
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John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."<|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."</|quote|>"That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask
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we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."<|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."</|quote|>"That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope
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said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."<|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."</|quote|>"That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be
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Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."<|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."</|quote|>"That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes
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They rode abreast, she on the outside with John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."<|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."</|quote|>"That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left the room, Tony said, "An atrocious suggestion." "Oh, I don't know. He's very anxious to be helpful." "They don't like him much as Master." Jock left soon after half-past two. Tony and Mrs Rattery had coffee in the library. "I'm afraid this is a very difficult situation," said Tony. "After all we scarcely know each other." "You don't have to think about me." "But it must be awful for you." "And you must stop thinking that." "I'll try... the absurd thing is that I'm not thinking it, just saying it... I keep thinking of other things all the time." "I know. You don't have to say anything." Presently Tony said, "It's going to be so much worse
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had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault."<|quote|>"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."</|quote|>"That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here,"
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A Handful Of Dust
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"That's it,"
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Tony Last
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anybody's fault. It just happened."<|quote|>"That's it,"</|quote|>said Tony. "It just happened...
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her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."<|quote|>"That's it,"</|quote|>said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to
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quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."<|quote|>"That's it,"</|quote|>said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to
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me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."<|quote|>"That's it,"</|quote|>said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was
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to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."<|quote|>"That's it,"</|quote|>said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone.
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and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."<|quote|>"That's it,"</|quote|>said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell
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John's pony between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."<|quote|>"That's it,"</|quote|>said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left the room, Tony said, "An atrocious suggestion." "Oh, I don't know. He's very anxious to be helpful." "They don't like him much as Master." Jock left soon after half-past two. Tony and Mrs Rattery had coffee in the library. "I'm afraid this is a very difficult situation," said Tony. "After all we scarcely know each other." "You don't have to think about me." "But it must be awful for you." "And you must stop thinking that." "I'll try... the absurd thing is that I'm not thinking it, just saying it... I keep thinking of other things all the time." "I know. You don't have to say anything." Presently Tony said, "It's going to be so much worse for Brenda.
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it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."<|quote|>"That's it,"</|quote|>said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Tony.
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No speaker
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It just happened." "That's it,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"It just happened... how are
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"No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"
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time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll
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that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right
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Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought
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groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I
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between her and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left the room, Tony said, "An atrocious suggestion." "Oh, I don't know. He's very anxious to be helpful." "They don't like him much as Master." Jock left soon after half-past two. Tony and Mrs Rattery had coffee in the library. "I'm afraid this is a very difficult situation," said Tony. "After all we scarcely know each other." "You don't have to think about me." "But it must be awful for you." "And you must stop thinking that." "I'll try... the absurd thing is that I'm not thinking it, just saying it... I keep thinking of other things all the time." "I know. You don't have to say anything." Presently Tony said, "It's going to be so much worse for Brenda. You see
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they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid
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A Handful Of Dust
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"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"
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Tony Last
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happened." "That's it," said Tony.<|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"</|quote|>"One of us will have
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wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony.<|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"</|quote|>"One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I
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she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony.<|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"</|quote|>"One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there...
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It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony.<|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"</|quote|>"One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was
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know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony.<|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"</|quote|>"One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice
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see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony.<|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"</|quote|>"One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir."
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and Ben. Then this happened: they reached a turn in the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony.<|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"</|quote|>"One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left the room, Tony said, "An atrocious suggestion." "Oh, I don't know. He's very anxious to be helpful." "They don't like him much as Master." Jock left soon after half-past two. Tony and Mrs Rattery had coffee in the library. "I'm afraid this is a very difficult situation," said Tony. "After all we scarcely know each other." "You don't have to think about me." "But it must be awful for you." "And you must stop thinking that." "I'll try... the absurd thing is that I'm not thinking it, just saying it... I keep thinking of other things all the time." "I know. You don't have to say anything." Presently Tony said, "It's going to be so much worse for Brenda. You see she'd got nothing else, much, except John. I've got her,
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had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony.<|quote|>"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"</|quote|>"One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming?
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A Handful Of Dust
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"One of us will have to go up."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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we going to tell Brenda?"<|quote|>"One of us will have to go up."</|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall
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"It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"<|quote|>"One of us will have to go up."</|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I
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on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"<|quote|>"One of us will have to go up."</|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor
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left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"<|quote|>"One of us will have to go up."</|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her
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But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"<|quote|>"One of us will have to go up."</|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a
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Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"<|quote|>"One of us will have to go up."</|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about
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the road and came face to face with one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"<|quote|>"One of us will have to go up."</|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left the room, Tony said, "An atrocious suggestion." "Oh, I don't know. He's very anxious to be helpful." "They don't like him much as Master." Jock left soon after half-past two. Tony and Mrs Rattery had coffee in the library. "I'm afraid this is a very difficult situation," said Tony. "After all we scarcely know each other." "You don't have to think about me." "But it must be awful for you." "And you must stop thinking that." "I'll try... the absurd thing is that I'm not thinking it, just saying it... I keep thinking of other things all the time." "I know. You don't have to say anything." Presently Tony said, "It's going to be so much worse for Brenda. You see she'd got nothing else, much, except John. I've got her, and I love the house... but with Brenda
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groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?"<|quote|>"One of us will have to go up."</|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day;
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."
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Tony Last
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will have to go up."<|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."</|quote|>"I'll go," said Jock. "There'll
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tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up."<|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."</|quote|>"I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to
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cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up."<|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."</|quote|>"I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all
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after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up."<|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."</|quote|>"I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really
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Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up."<|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."</|quote|>"I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane.
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are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up."<|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."</|quote|>"I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first.
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one of the single-decker country buses that covered that neighbourhood. It was not going fast and, seeing the horses, the driver slowed down still further and drew into the side. Mr Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up."<|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."</|quote|>"I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left the room, Tony said, "An atrocious suggestion." "Oh, I don't know. He's very anxious to be helpful." "They don't like him much as Master." Jock left soon after half-past two. Tony and Mrs Rattery had coffee in the library. "I'm afraid this is a very difficult situation," said Tony. "After all we scarcely know each other." "You don't have to think about me." "But it must be awful for you." "And you must stop thinking that." "I'll try... the absurd thing is that I'm not thinking it, just saying it... I keep thinking of other things all the time." "I know. You don't have to say anything." Presently Tony said, "It's going to be so much worse for Brenda. You see she'd got nothing else, much, except John. I've got her, and I love the house... but with Brenda John always came first... naturally... And then you know she's seen so little of John lately. She's been in London such a lot. I'm afraid that's going to hurt her." "You
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to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up."<|quote|>"Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."</|quote|>"I'll go," said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I'll go,"
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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to ask anyone to do..."<|quote|>"I'll go,"</|quote|>said Jock. "There'll be things
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to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."<|quote|>"I'll go,"</|quote|>said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's
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Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."<|quote|>"I'll go,"</|quote|>said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to
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afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."<|quote|>"I'll go,"</|quote|>said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going
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with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."<|quote|>"I'll go,"</|quote|>said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be
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still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."<|quote|>"I'll go,"</|quote|>said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just
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Tendril's niece, who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."<|quote|>"I'll go,"</|quote|>said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left the room, Tony said, "An atrocious suggestion." "Oh, I don't know. He's very anxious to be helpful." "They don't like him much as Master." Jock left soon after half-past two. Tony and Mrs Rattery had coffee in the library. "I'm afraid this is a very difficult situation," said Tony. "After all we scarcely know each other." "You don't have to think about me." "But it must be awful for you." "And you must stop thinking that." "I'll try... the absurd thing is that I'm not thinking it, just saying it... I keep thinking of other things all the time." "I know. You don't have to say anything." Presently Tony said, "It's going to be so much worse for Brenda. You see she'd got nothing else, much, except John. I've got her, and I love the house... but with Brenda John always came first... naturally... And then you know she's seen so little of John lately. She's been in London such a lot. I'm afraid that's going to hurt her." "You can't ever
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made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..."<|quote|>"I'll go,"</|quote|>said Jock. "There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Jock.
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No speaker
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anyone to do..." "I'll go,"<|quote|>said Jock.</|quote|>"There'll be things to see
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an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go,"<|quote|>said Jock.</|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to
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just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go,"<|quote|>said Jock.</|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd
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was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go,"<|quote|>said Jock.</|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and
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hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go,"<|quote|>said Jock.</|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes,
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hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go,"<|quote|>said Jock.</|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon."
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who had also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go,"<|quote|>said Jock.</|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left the room, Tony said, "An atrocious suggestion." "Oh, I don't know. He's very anxious to be helpful." "They don't like him much as Master." Jock left soon after half-past two. Tony and Mrs Rattery had coffee in the library. "I'm afraid this is a very difficult situation," said Tony. "After all we scarcely know each other." "You don't have to think about me." "But it must be awful for you." "And you must stop thinking that." "I'll try... the absurd thing is that I'm not thinking it, just saying it... I keep thinking of other things all the time." "I know. You don't have to say anything." Presently Tony said, "It's going to be so much worse for Brenda. You see she'd got nothing else, much, except John. I've got her, and I love the house... but with Brenda John always came first... naturally... And then you know she's seen so little of John lately. She's been in London such a lot. I'm afraid that's going to hurt her." "You can't ever tell what's
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beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go,"<|quote|>said Jock.</|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle." The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was
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A Handful Of Dust
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"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle."
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Tony Last
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do..." "I'll go," said Jock.<|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle."</|quote|>The two men stood in
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thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock.<|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle."</|quote|>The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you
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how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock.<|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle."</|quote|>The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No,
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the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock.<|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle."</|quote|>The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up
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the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock.<|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle."</|quote|>The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have
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talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock.<|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle."</|quote|>The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car.
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also despaired of the day's sport, was following behind them at a short distance on her motor bicycle; she too slowed down, and, observing that Miss Ripon's horse was likely to be difficult, stopped. Ben said, "Let me go first, Miss. He'll follow. Don't hold too hard on his mouth and just give him a tap." Miss Ripon did as she was told; everyone in fact behaved with complete good sense. They drew abreast of the omnibus. Miss Ripon's horse did not like it, but it seemed as though he would get by. The passengers watched with amusement. At that moment the motor bicycle, running gently in neutral gear, fired back into the cylinder with a sharp detonation. For a second Miss Ripon's horse stood rigid with alarm; then, menaced in front and behind, he did what was natural to him and shied sideways, cannoning violently into the pony at his side. John was knocked from the saddle and fell on the road while Miss Ripon's bay, rearing and skidding, continued to plunge away from the bus. "Take a hold of him, Miss. Use your whip," shouted Ben. "The boy's down." She hit him and the horse collected himself and bolted up the road into the village, but before he went one of his heels struck out and sent John into the ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock.<|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle."</|quote|>The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir, he left a few minutes ago." "Tell him I shall have to discuss arrangements with him." "Very good, sir." Mr Last was very matter of fact about everything, the footman reported later. It was perfectly quiet in the library, for the workmen in the morning-room had laid aside their tools for the day. Mrs Rattery was ready first. "They're just getting luncheon." "We shan't want any," she said. "You forget we were going hunting." "Better have something," said Tony, and then, "It's awful for Jock, having to tell Brenda. I wonder how long it will be before she arrives." There was something in Tony's voice as he said this which made Mrs Rattery ask, "What are you going to do while you're waiting?" "I don't know. I suppose there will be things to see to." "Look here," said Mrs Rattery, "Jock had better go up by car. I'll stay here until Lady Brenda comes." "It would be awful for you." "No, I'll stay." Tony said, "I suppose it's ridiculous of me, but I wish you would... I mean, won't it be awful for you? I am all in a muddle. It's so hard to believe yet that it really happened." "It happened all right." The footman came to say that Mr Tendril would call after tea that day; that Miss Ripon had gone straight to bed and was asleep. "Mr Grant-Menzies is going up in his car. He may be back to-night," said Tony. "Mrs Rattery is waiting until her ladyship arrives." "Very good, sir. And Colonel Inch wanted to know whether you would care to have the huntsmen blow "Gone to ground" at the funeral." "Say that I'll write to him," and, when the footman had left the room, Tony said, "An atrocious suggestion." "Oh, I don't know. He's very anxious to be helpful." "They don't like him much as Master." Jock left soon after half-past two. Tony and Mrs Rattery had coffee in the library. "I'm afraid this is a very difficult situation," said Tony. "After all we scarcely know each other." "You don't have to think about me." "But it must be awful for you." "And you must stop thinking that." "I'll try... the absurd thing is that I'm not thinking it, just saying it... I keep thinking of other things all the time." "I know. You don't have to say anything." Presently Tony said, "It's going to be so much worse for Brenda. You see she'd got nothing else, much, except John. I've got her, and I love the house... but with Brenda John always came first... naturally... And then you know she's seen so little of John lately. She's been in London such a lot. I'm afraid that's going to hurt her." "You can't ever tell what's going to hurt people." "But, you see, I know Brenda so well." [VI] The library windows were open and the clock, striking the hour, high over head among its crockets and finials, was clearly audible in the quiet room. It was some time since they had spoken. Mrs Rattery sat with her back to Tony; she had spread out her intricate four-pack patience on a card table; he was in front of the fire, in the chair he had taken after lunch. "Only four o'clock?"
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ditch, where he lay bent double, perfectly still. Everyone agreed that it was nobody's fault. * * * * * It was nearly an hour before the news reached Jock and Mrs Rattery where they were waiting beside another blank covert. Colonel Inch stopped hunting for the day and sent the hounds back to the kennels. The voices were hushed which, five minutes before, had been proclaiming that they knew it for a fact, Last had given orders to shoot every fox on the place. Later, after their baths, they made up for it in criticism of Miss Ripon's father, but at the moment everyone was shocked and silent. Someone lent Jock and Mrs Rattery a car to get home in, and a groom to see to the hirelings. "It's the most appalling thing," said Jock in the borrowed car. "What on earth are we going to say to Tony?" "I'm the last person to have about on an occasion like this," said Mrs Rattery. They passed the scene of the accident; there were still people hanging about, talking. There were people hanging about, talking in the hall at the house. The doctor was buttoning up his coat, just going. "Killed instantly," he said. "Took it full on the base of the skull. Very sad, awfully fond of the kid. No one to blame, though." Nanny was there in tears, also Mr Tendril and his niece; a policeman and Ben and two men who had helped bring up the body were in the servants' hall. "It wasn't the kid's fault," said Ben. "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. "He'd had a lousy day, too, poor little bastard," said Ben. "If it was anyone's fault it was Mr Grant-Menzies making him go in." "It wasn't anyone's fault," they said. * * * * * Tony was alone in the library. The first thing he said, when Jock came in, was, "We've got to tell Brenda." "D'you know where to get her?" "She's probably at that school... But we can't tell her over the telephone... Anyway, Ambrose has tried there and the flat but he can't get through... What on earth are we going to say to her?" Jock was silent. He stood in the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his breeches, with his back to Tony. Presently Tony said, "You weren't anywhere near, were you?" "No, we'd gone on to another covert." "That niece of Mr Tendril's told me first... then we met them coming up, and Ben told me all that happened... It's awful for the girl." "Miss Ripon?" "Yes, she's just left... she had a nasty fall too, just after. Her horse slipped up in the village... she was in a terrible state, poor child, what with that and... John. She didn't know she'd hurt him until quite a time afterwards... she was in the chemist's shop having a bandage put on her head, when they told her. She cut it falling. She was in a terrible state. I sent her back in the car... it wasn't her fault." "No, it wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened." "That's it," said Tony. "It just happened... how are we going to tell Brenda?" "One of us will have to go up." "Yes... I think I shall have to stay here. I don't know why really, but there will be things to see to. It's an awful thing to ask anyone to do..." "I'll go," said Jock.<|quote|>"There'll be things to see to there... there's got to be an inquest the doctor says. It's purely formal, of course, but it will be ghastly for that Ripon girl. She'll have to give evidence... she was in a terrible state. I hope I was all right to her. They'd just brought John in and I was rather muddled. She looked awful. I believe her father's bloody to her... I wish Brenda had been here. She's so good with everyone. I get in a muddle."</|quote|>The two men stood in silence. Tony said, "Can you really face going up and seeing Brenda?" "Yes, I'll go," said Jock. Presently Mrs Rattery came in. "Colonel Inch has been here," she said. "I talked to him. He wanted to give you his sympathy." "Is he still here?" "No, I told him you'd probably prefer to be left alone. He thought you'd be glad to hear he stopped the hunt." "Nice of him to come... Were you having a good day?" "No." "I'm sorry. We saw a fox in Bruton Wood last week. John and I... Jock's going up to London to fetch Brenda." "I'll take him in the aeroplane. It'll be quicker." "Yes, that will be quicker." "I'll go and change now. I won't be ten minutes." "I'll change, too," said Jock. When he was alone Tony rang the bell. A young footman answered; he was quite young and had not been long at Hetton. "Will you tell Mr Ambrose that Mrs Rattery is leaving to-day. She is flying up with Mr Grant-Menzies. Her ladyship will probably be coming by the evening train." "Very good, sir." "They had better have some luncheon before they go. I will have it with them... And will you put a call through to Colonel Inch and thank him for coming? Say I will write. And to Mr Ripon's to enquire how Miss Ripon is? And to the vicarage and ask Mr Tendril if I can see him this evening? He's not here still?" "No, sir,
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A Handful Of Dust
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