A moment later Lady Maud appeared, on a lanky and elderly thoroughbred that had been her own long before her marriage.

Her old-fashioned habit was evidently of the same period too; it had been made before the modern age of skirted coats, and fitted her figure in a way that would have excited open disapproval and secret admiration in Rotten Row.

But she never rode in town, so that it did not matter; and, besides, Lady Maud did not care.
Mr.Van Torp raised his hat in a very un-English way, and at the same time, apparently out of respect for his friend, he went so far as to change his seat a little by laying his right knee over the pommel and sticking his left foot into the stirrup, so that he sat like a woman.
Lady Maud drew up on his off side and they shook hands.
'You look rather comfortable,' she said, and the happy ripple was in her voice.
'Why, yes.

There's nothing else to sit on, and the grass is wet.

Do you want to get off ?' 'I thought we might make some tea presently,' answered Lady Maud.
'I've brought my basket.' 'Now I call that quite sweet!' Mr.Van Torp seemed very much pleased, and he looked down at the shabby little brown basket hanging at her saddle.
He slipped to the ground, and she did the same before he could go round to help her.