Part 14 (1/2)

[_Taking THE DEAN'S arm and walking him about._] Do you imagine, sir, for one moment, that Bonny Betsy, with a boy on her back, can get down that bill with those legs of hers?

THE DEAN.

Another _horse_, I presume?

SIR TRISTRAM.

No, a bay mare. George Tidd knew what she was about when she stuck to Dandy d.i.c.k to the very last.

THE DEAN.

[_Aghast._] George--Tidd?

SIR TRISTRAM.

Georgiana Tidman. Dandy came out of her stable after she smashed.

THE DEAN.

Bless me!

SIR TRISTRAM.

Poor old George! I wonder what's become of her.

THE DEAN.

My dear Mardon, I am of course heartily pleased to revive in this way our old acquaintance. I wish it were in my power to offer you the hospitality of the Deanery--but----

SIR TRISTRAM.

Don't name it. My horse and I are over the way at ”The Swan.” Come and look at Dandy d.i.c.k!

THE DEAN.

Mardon, you don't understand. My position in St. Marvells----

SIR TRISTRAM.

Oh, I see, Jedd. I beg your pardon. You mean that the colors you ride in don't show up well on the hill yonder or in the stable of the ”Swan” Inn.

THE DEAN.

You must remember----

SIR TRISTRAM.

I remember that in your young days you made the heaviest book on the Derby of any of our fellows.

THE DEAN.