"Glad to see you here this fine morning, Miss Harleth," said Lord Brackenshaw, a middle-aged peer of aristocratic seediness in stained pink, with easy-going manners which would have made the threatened deluge seem of no consequence. "We shall have a first-rate run. A pity you didn't go with us. Have you ever tried your little chestnut at a ditch? you wouldn't be afraid, eh?"
"Not the least in the world," said Gwendolen. And that was true: she was never fearful in action and companionship. "I have often taken him at some rails and a ditch too, near--"

"Glad to see you here this fine morning, Miss Harleth," said Lord Brackenshaw, an easy-going, middle-aged peer of aristocratic seediness in stained pink. "We shall have a first-rate run. Have you ever tried your little chestnut at a ditch? you wouldn't be afraid, eh?"
"Not at all," said Gwendolen. 