The morning the new pony had been tried the Earl had been so pleased that he had almost forgotten his gout. When the groom had brought out the pretty creature, which arched its brown glossy neck and tossed its fine head in the sun, the Earl had sat at the open window of the library and had looked on while Fauntleroy took his first riding lesson. He wondered if the boy would show signs of timidity.
Fauntleroy mounted in great delight. He had never been on a pony before, and he was in the highest spirits. Wilkins, the groom, led the animal by the bridle up and down before the library window.
After a few minutes Fauntleroy spoke to his grandfather--watching him from the window.
"Can't I go myself?" he asked; "and can't I go faster?"
His lordship made a sign to Wilkins, who at the signal brought up his own horse and mounted it and took Fauntleroy's pony by the leading-rein.
The next few minutes were rather exciting to the small equestrian. He found that trotting was not so easy as walking, and the faster the pony trotted, the less easy it was.
"It j-jolts a g-goo-good deal--do-doesn't it?" he said to Wilkins. "D-does it j-jolt y-you?"
"No, my lord," answered Wilkins. "You'll get used to it in time. Rise in your stirrups."
"I'm ri-rising all the t-time," said Fauntleroy.
He was both rising and falling rather uncomfortably and with many shakes and bounces. He was out of breath, but he held on with all his might, and sat as straight as he could. The Earl could see that from his window. When the riders came back within speaking distance, after they had been hidden by the trees a few minutes, Fauntleroy's hat was off, his cheeks were like poppies, and his lips were set, but he was still trotting manfully.
"Stop a minute!" said his grandfather. "Where's your hat?"
Wilkins touched his. "It fell off, your lordship," he said, with evident enjoyment. "Wouldn't let me stop to pick it up, my lord."
"Tired?" said the Earl to Fauntleroy. "Want to get off?"
"It jolts you more than you think it will," admitted his young lordship frankly. "And it tires you a little too; but I don't want to get off. I want to learn how. As soon as I've got my breath I want to go back for the hat."
The cleverest person in the world, if he had undertaken to teach Fauntleroy how to please the old man who watched him, could not have taught him anything which would have succeeded better. As the pony trotted off again toward the avenue, a faint colour crept up in the fierce old face, and the eyes, under the shaggy brows, gleamed with a pleasure such as his lordship had scarcely expected to know again. And he sat and watched quite eagerly until the sound of the horses' hoofs returned. When they did come, which was after some time, they came at a faster pace. Fauntleroy's hat was still off, Wilkins was carrying it for him; his cheeks were redder than before, and his hair was flying about his ears, but he came at quite a brisk canter.