File:Roland Cashel (1855) (14597330388).jpg

Identifier: rolandcashel01leve (find matches)
Title: Roland Cashel
Year: 1855 (1850s)
Authors: Lever, Charles James, 1806-1872 Browne, Hablot Knight, 1815-1882
Subjects:
Publisher: London : Chapman and Hall
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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, she had taken the mare a canter rounda large grass-field, and was evidently endeavouring, by a light hand anda soothing caressing voice, to calm down her temper.—Stooping, as shewent, in the saddle to pat the animals shoulder, and almost bendingher own auburn curs to the counter. She is perfect! cried Roland, in a very ecstacy ; see that, Linton?Mark how she sways herself in her saddle. That comes of wearing no stays, said Linton, drily, as he pro-ceeded to light a cigar. • Now shes at it. Here she comes ! cried Cashel, almost breathiwith anxiety; for the mare, chafed by the delay, no sooner was turnedtowards the fence, once more, than she stretched out and dashed wildlyat it. It was a moment of intense interest, for the speed was far too great to clear a high leap with safety; the fear was, however, but momentary, for, with a tremendous bound, the mare cleared the fence, and after a couple of minutes cantering, stood with heaving flanks and swelling tril beside the other horse.
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ROLAND CASHEL. 309 You see my misfortune, I suppose, said the girl, addressingFrobisher. No. Shes not cut about the legs, said lie, as he bent down in hissaddle and took a most searching survey of the animal. No, the hack is all right. But dont you perceive that bit of bluecloth flaunting yonder on the hedge—that is part of my habit. See whata tremendous rent is here—I declare, Charley, it is scarcely decent.And to illustrate the remark, she wheeled her horse round so as to showthe fringed and jagged end of her riding-habit, beneath which a veryfinely turned ancle and foot were now seen. Then, why dont you wear trousers, like every body else ? saidFrobisher, gruffly, and scarce bestowing even a passing glance at thewell-arched instep. Because I never get time to dress like any one else. You order meout like one of your Newmarket boys, replied she, pettishly.By Jove, I wish any one of them had got your hand. To say nothing of the foot, Charley, said she, roguishly, andendeavouring

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