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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 200 pages of information about The Reflections of Ambrosine.
passed!  It is the first time I have seen one close.  That must be delightful to rush along on horseback!  I could feel my heart beating just looking at them, and my dear Roy barked all the time, and if I had not held his collar I am sure he would have joined the other dogs to go and catch the fox.  Some of the men in their red coats looked so handsome, and there was one all covered with mud; he must have had a tumble.  His stirrup-leather gave way just as he got up to the mound where Roy and I were standing, and he was obliged to get off his horse and settle it.  I am sure by his face he was swearing to himself at being delayed.  His fall had evidently broken some strap and he was fumbling in his pocket for a knife to mend it.

I always wear a little gold chatelaine that belonged to Ambrosine Eustasie de Calincourt and is marked with her coronet and initials; it has a tiny knife among the other things hanging from it.  The muddy hunter could not find one; he searched in every pocket.  At last he turned to me and said:  “Do you happen to have a knife by chance?” and then when he saw I was a girl he took off his hat.  It was gray with clay, and so was half of his face, it looked so comic I could not help smiling as I caught his one eye; the other was rather swollen.  The one that was visible was a grayish-greeny-blue eye with a black edge.  I quickly gave him my knife and he laughed as he took it.  “Yes, I do look a guy, don’t I?” he said, and we both laughed again.  Even through the mud one could see he was a gentleman.  He fixed his stirrup so quickly and neatly, but it broke the blade of my little gold knife.

He apologized profusely, and said he must have it mended, and where should he send it? but at that moment there was the sound of the hunt coming across a field near again.  He had no time for more manners, but jumped on his horse and was off in a few seconds—­and alas! my knife went with him!  And just as I was turning to go home I picked up the broken blade, which was lying in the road.  I hope grandmamma won’t notice it and ask about it.  As I said before, there are disadvantages in being well born—­one cannot tell lies like servants.

II

The Gurrage family have arrived.  We saw carts and a carriage going to meet them at the station.  Their liveries are prune and scarlet, and look so inharmonious, and they seem to have crests and coats of arms on every possible thing.  Young Mr. Gurrage is our landlord—­but I think I said that before.

On Sunday in church the party entered the Ledstone family pew.  An oldish woman with a huddled figure—­how unlike grandmamma!—­looking about the class of a housekeeper; a girl of my age, with red hair and white eye-lashes and a buff hat on; and a young man, dark, thick, common-looking.  He seemed kind to his mother, though, and arranged a cushion for her.  Their pew is at right angles to the one I sit in,

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