"
"What's the hunting like? But, there, I know; it can't be up to much;
it never is in those southern counties. I always hunt in
Leicestershire. I've got used to it."
"You hunt in Leicestershire?" said Lady Beauleigh with some surprise.
"Oh course. Where does one hunt?" said Tinker, echoing her surprise.
"But--but--where does your horse come from? I know your father can't
afford to keep horses!"
"Sometimes he can," said Tinker. "And if he has had to sell them, a
dozen people will always mount us."
Lady Beauleigh paused; and then she made the last, lavish bid. "And I
would allow you a hundred a year pocket-money. Why--why, you would be
a little Prince!"
"A little Prince! And learn geography! No, thank you!" said Tinker,
startled out of his calm. "Besides," he added carelessly, "I've made
five thousand in the last year."
"Five thousand what?"
"Pounds."
"Come, come," said Lady Beauleigh, shaking her head, "you mustn't tell
me lies."
"It isn't a lie! Tinker never tells lies," broke in Elsie hotly.
"Hold your tongue, you impertinent little minx!" said Lady Beauleigh
sharply. "Who asked you to speak?"
"I think you're a horrid----" said Elsie, and was checked by Tinker's
upraised hand.
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