On that day Burgo Fitzgerald startled all those who saw him by the mad way in which he rode. Early in the day there was no excuse for any such rashness. The hounds went from wood to wood, and men went in troops along the forest sides as they do on such occasions. But Burgo was seen to cram his horse at impracticable places, and to ride at gates and rails as though resolved to do himself and his uncle's steed a mischief. This was so apparent that some friend spoke to Sir Cosmo Monk about it. "I can do nothing," said Sir Cosmo. "He is a man whom no one's words will control. Something has ruffled him this morning, and he must run his chance till he becomes quiet." In the afternoon there was a good run, and Burgo again rode as hard as he could make his horse carry him;--but then there was the usual excuse for hard riding; and such riding in a straight run is not dangerous, as it is when the circumstances of the occasion do not warrant it, But, be that as it may, Burgo went on to the end of the day without accident, and as he went home, assured Sir Cosmo, in a voice which was almost cheery, that his mare Spinster was by far the best thing in the Monkshade stables. Indeed Spinster made quite a character that day, and was sold at the end of the season for three hundred guineas on the strength of it. 
On that day Burgo Fitzgerald startled everyone by the mad way in which he rode. He steered at gates and rails as though resolved to do himself and his uncle's horse a mischief. This was so apparent that some friend spoke to Sir Cosmo Monk about it.
"I can do nothing," said Sir Cosmo. "No words will control him. He must run his chance till he becomes quiet." In the afternoon Burgo again rode as hard as he could; but he finished the day without accident, and as he went home, assured Sir Cosmo, in a voice which was almost cheery, that his mare Spinster was the best horse in the Monkshade stables. 