The Argosy — page 250: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Wilful Margaret. 235 Colonel Massingham came forward. He and Madge had met at dinner the preceding night—to outward observers just as usual. Perhaps he may have been a trifle more grave; but, if so, his gravity was counterbalanced by her feverish brilliancy; she seemed resolved to outshine herself. He now advanced and tried to prevail upon her to change her steed for one less uncertain ; but the quiet words in which he urged his request seemed to add fuel to the fire. ‘Stand back,” she cried. ‘‘I am going to start, and Wild Sorrel may do you harm.” The Colonel turned appealingly to George Wilson, who was pre- paring to mount a beautiful bay that his groom was holding. ‘“‘ Will you permit her to risk her life like this?” he said to him in tones that had an unconscious ring of scorn in them. George shrugged his shoulders with selfish deprecation, as if to intimate how useless it would be for him to oppose his will to hers. Thomas had opened the gates, and Wild Sorrel was beginning to get restive ; but Colonel Massingham, who had caught sight of the Scuine’s fiotite advancing in the distance, still maintained his grasp. Whether she feared her uncle would stop her, or that her own self- dissatisfaction goaded her to passion, Margaret, with an angry flush, raised her small gold-handled whip ; at the same time Wild Sorrel tossed her head, the Colonel was dragged forward, and the blow that had been aimed at his hand alighted, with full force, on his cheek. A livid weal rose on it as, stung by the sharpness of the pain, he slackened his grip of the reins. In a moment, and before he had time to tighten it, they were wrested from him and he was left stand- ing by himself ; Wild Sorrel was curvetting and prancing down the lane, followed, at a respectful distance from her heels, by George Wilson on his well-trained and easily managed bay. They rode along, Wild Sorrel pretty quiet. She soon dropped into an easy canter, and as Margaret felt the exhilarating effects of the healthy exercise her anger began to subside, and qualms of remorse, that she had allowed her temper to master her in her conflict with Colonel Massingham, to take its place. She would not, however, allow this to become apparent to her companion, but, on the contrary, exerted herself to make the ride agreeable to him. ‘Wild Sorrel’s character has been maligned,” remarked George, as, after about an hour’s riding, they turned their horses’ heads in the direction of home. Madge smiled with self-complacency ; as if the merit of the mare’s improvement in temper was due to her rider’s skill. They were now crossing a large breezy common about two miles from the Hall, and Madge, deceived by Wild Sorrel’s good behaviour, and relying on her own self-confidence, was not quite so much on the alert as she should have been when riding an uncertain-tempered animal. As they reached a cross-road a large gipsy caravan met them. Now anything in the shape of a waggon was Wild Sorrel’s pet aver- Conmuiclooolkks (©) An