‘Yes, we do!’ stated Vanda, with some eagerness. ‘Of course there’s Captain Neil Haig; he was A.D.C. to the Governor in West Australia. He played in Melbourne, don’t you remember, against the crack Western Club. Four Englishmen against four Australians. It was a drawn game—he’s a wonderful hitter.’
It was agreed, _nem. con._, that a party should be made up for Hurlingham the next time there was a match on. Following which arrangement the conversation became general, until, shortly after one o’clock, Mr. Lovegrove gave the word, and the procession, headed by the President, Lord Ancaster, moved off; some of the coaches going on to Hurlingham, as arranged in the programme.
‘There can’t be anything finer under the sun, for form and finish,’ declared Reggie, ‘but the American coaching in Australia for cross-country work, over bad roads, for speed and punctuality has greatly the advantage. Their coaches and teams, of course, do not compare in the matter of appearance, and are not expected to. But the passengers are better accommodated, and the American cross-handed style of holding the reins gives better, greater power over the team. Think, for instance, of having to handle six or seven horses at night—three in the lead, with a heavily loaded coach and indifferent roads. The lamps too, placed on high, are more numerous, thus throwing the light farther out ahead. The service is more efficient and satisfactory than the English fashion, which prevailed in Australia until quite recently.’
‘Everything in its own place,’ said Mrs. Banneret. ‘The pioneer work in Britain was finished centuries ago. In our Greater Britain it has only lately begun. Our young men have rough work and different results to look to. Let us hope that they may learn in time to combine use and ornament.’
‘That’s where these English fellows beat us, I must say,’ interposed Eric. ‘Looking at them there, sitting up as if they were only intended to drive accurately, to advertise their teams and their tailors, one might think that they couldn’t do anything else—never had done. There could be no greater mistake. They _have_ done all sorts of things—great things, many of them—but you’d never know it from themselves. The Englishman doesn’t talk. You must hear his exploits from some one else. You never will from himself.’