"That's a very brilliant little thing, that girl Montolieu," said Goodwood, driving over to Hornsey Wood, the morning after, with Carruthers and some other men, in his drag.
"A deuced pretty waltzer!" said St. Lys, of the Bays; "turn her round in a square foot."
"And looks very well in the saddle; sits her horse better than any woman in the Ride, except Rosalie Rosière, and as she came from the Cirque Olympique originally, one don't count _her_," said Fulke Nugent. "I _do_ like a woman to ride well, I must say. I promised your mother to take a look at the Marabout Yearling Sale, Phil, if ever I wanted the never-desirable and ever-burdensome article she has to offer, and if anything could tempt me to pay the price she asks, I think it would be that charming Montolieu."
"She's the best thing Lady Tattersall ever had on hand," said Goodwood, drawing his whip over his off-wheeler's back. "You know, Phil--gently, gently, Coronet!--what spoilt your handsome cousin was, as I said, that it was all mechanism; perfect mechanism, I admit, but all artificial, prearranged, put together, wound up to smile in this place, bow in that, and frown in the other; clockwork every inch of it! Now--so-ho, Zouave! confound you, _won't_ you be quiet?--little Montolieu hasn't a bit of artifice about her; 'tisn't only that you don't know what she's going to say, but that _she_ doesn't either; and whether it's a smile or a frown, a jest or a reproof, it's what the moment brings out, not what's planned beforehand."
"The hard hit you had the other day seems to have piqued your interest," said Carruthers, smoothing a loose leaf of his Manilla.
"Naturally. The girl didn't care a button about my compliment (I only said it to try her), and the plucky answer she gave me amused me immensely. Anything unartificial and frank is as refreshing as hock-and-seltzer after a field-day--one likes it, don't you know?"
"Wonderfully eloquent you are, Goody. If you come out like that in St. Stephen's, we sha'n't know you, and the ministerialists will look down in the mouth with a vengeance!"
"Don't be satirical, Phil! If I admire Mademoiselle Flora, what is it to you, pray?"
"Nothing at all," said Carruthers, with unnecessary rapidity of enunciation.