The advantage of being the youngest member of a large family is one that takes a considerable time to mature.  Christian was thirteen years old before what was left of one of the Hunt horses, after seven strenuous seasons of official work, was placed at her sole disposal.  This residue, battered though it was, and a roarer of remarkable power and volume, was incapable of falling, and with anything under eight stone on its piebald back (piebald from incessant and sedulously concealed saddle-galls) could always be trusted to keep within reasonable distance of hounds when they ran.  It was fortunate for Christian that Judith, now sixteen, and far from a feather-weight, had renounced her share in “Harry,” and had established a right in the grey mare.  Judith was a buccaneer.  Charles, the coachman, (in connection with the commandeering of the grey mare, which he resented) had said of her to his respected friend, Mr. Evans:  “Ah, ah!  That’s the young lady that’ll get her whack out of the world!”

And Mr. Evans’ reaping-hook nose had sniffed assent.

Yet, though Judith was averted, the Christmas holidays always held the menace of brothers to be reckoned with as rival claimants for Harry.

“The boys, darling!” “Unselfishness, darling!” “After the holidays, my child!”

Lady Isabel was of the school that inculcated self-denial for its daughters, but never for its sons; (whether from a belief that such was inherent in the male sex, or from a fear that the effort would be misplaced, it is difficult to say).  Christian was ever quick to respond to the call for martyrdom, but that the Twins should both maltreat and despise the venerable Harry, added a poignancy to renunciation that placed it almost beyond attainment.  On this day of festival, happily, renunciation was not exacted; other attractions had absorbed the Twins, and Christian’s rights were unchallenged.

Therefore, it was that the youngest Miss Talbot-Lowry, perched on old Harry’s broad back, and looking of about the same size in relation to it as the “Wran” to the holly-bush, was now blissfully discussing hound-puppies with her trusted friend, Father David, and was asking nothing more that life could offer.

Dr. Mangan, meantime, waited, with a permissive smile, for the moment to make his “little girl” known to the young ladies from Mount Music, and to their cousin, young Larry Coppinger.  He was in no hurry, and he had often had occasion to agree with Milton (though he had been quite unaware of so doing) in thinking that they also serve who only stand and wait.

CHAPTER VIII

It may be permissible to introduce a meet of hounds at or about the end of a chapter, but I feel sure that the ensuing run must be given elbow-room.  Alarming to many though this statement may be, yet it may be said that its foundations are laid in truth and equity, and in the necessities of this history may be found the justification of the chapter.