Kate Coventry | Page 6

to have people riding by and stopping to alter their
stirrup-leathers, and squinting up at one's drawing-room windows
where one sits working in peace, and then cantering off and trotting by
again, as if something had been forgotten. No; if curiosity is so very

anxious to know where I live, let it look in the Court Guide; for my part,
I say nothing, except that there are always flowers in the balcony, and
there's no great singularity about that. But there are two great
advantages connected with a "residence in Belgravia," which I wonder
are not inserted in the advertisements of all houses to let in that locality.
In the first place, a lady may walk about all the forenoon quite alone,
without being hampered by a maid or hunted by a footman; and in the
second, she is most conveniently situated for a morning ride or walk in
the Park; and those are about the two pleasantest things one does in
London.
Well, the same conversation takes place nearly every morning at
breakfast between Aunt Deborah and myself (we breakfast early, never
after half-past nine, however late we may have been the night before).
Aunt Deborah begins,--
"My dear, I hope we shall have a quiet morning together; I've directed
the servants to deny me to all visitors; and if you'll get your work, I will
proceed with my readings from excellent Mrs. Hannah More."
Kate.--"Thank you, aunt; Hannah More amuses me very much"--(I
confess that prim moralist does make me laugh).
Aunt Deborah (reprovingly).--"Instructive, Kate, not amusing; certainly
not ludicrous. If you'll shut the door we'll begin."
Kate.--"Can't we put it off for an hour? I must get my ride, you know,
aunt. What's the use of horses if one don't ride?"
Aunt Deborah.--"Kate, you ride too much; I don't object to the
afternoons with John Jones, but these morning scampers are really
quite uncalled for; they're spoiling your figure and complexion; it's
improper--more, it's unfeminine; but as you seem determined upon it,
go and get your ride, and come back a little sobered;" and Kate--that's
me--disappears into the boudoir, from which she emerges in about five
minutes with the neatest habit and the nicest hat, and her hair done in
two such killing plaits--John Jones says I never look so well as when
I've got my hair dressed for riding.

I always go out for these morning excursions quite alone. Aunt
Deborah fought for a long time, and insisted on my taking the
coachman; but he is an old family servant, and I soon knocked him up
completely. In the first place, the ride is always soft, and I hate going
slow, so he used to get a dreadful stitch in his side trying to keep up
with me on one of the high-actioned coach-horses; then he didn't see
the fun of having two horses to clean when he got home instead of one;
so when he found he couldn't get another helper, we begged him off
between us, and I go out now unencumbered by that excellent and
pursy old man. After all, I ought to be able to take care of myself. I
have ridden ever since I was five years old; and if habit is second
nature, as Aunt Deborah says, I'm sure my habit ought to be natural
enough to me. I recollect as well as if it was yesterday, when poor papa
put me on a shaggy Shetland pony, and telling me not to be frightened,
gave it a thump, and started me off by myself. I wasn't the least bit
afraid, I know that. It was a new sensation, and delightful; round and
round the field we went, I shaking my reins with one hand, and holding
on a great flapping straw hat with the other; the pony grunting and
squeaking, with his mane and tail floating on the breeze, and papa
standing in the middle, waving his hat and applauding with all his
might. After that I was qualified to ride anything; and by the time I was
twelve, there wasn't a hunter in the stables that I wouldn't get on at a
moment's notice. I am ashamed to confess that I have even caught the
loose cart-horses in a field, and ridden them without saddle or bridle. I
never was beat but once, and that was at Uncle Horsingham's when I
was about fifteen. He had bought a mare at Tattersall's for his daughter
to ride, and brought her down to Dangerfield, thinking she would
conduct herself like the rest of her species. How well I remember my
governess's face when she gave me leave to go to the stable with Sir
Harry and look over the new purchase. I was a great pet of Uncle
Horsingham; and as Cousin Amelia