Sophie's Halloo Read Online Free Page A

for her finally, and near the beginning of the season—before she was in top form. If I had known we would have such a fine run that day, I would have taken one of the younger nags, but there was no way of knowing, of course,” he said sadly. 
    “The scent stayed strong throughout, even though we crossed two fallow fields in the course of the run. I feared she was flagging near the end, but of course, I could not abandon the chase. She took her last ditch flying. A sad business. I changed quickly to another mount to finish the run, of course, and sent my man to fetch her as soon as I reached him. He tried everything he could to save her, but she never made it back to the stable.”
     “Tragic business!” said Sadie, a hint of hoarseness in her voice. “I remember riding her myself, many times. When you first acquired her. Remember that great run I had on her in ‘06? The one where Percival Blakehollow broke his leg?”
    Sir John perked up instantly. He smiled ruminatively. “Aye,” he said. “That would have been the fifteenth November. I remember because I had the lead the following day and had to recount the whole to Percy who was laid up in bed. Dolly was a game one, wasn’t she? Hated to lose her. Miracle she lasted that long, though, when you come to think of it. She had her share of great runs.”
    Sophie’s mind had wandered off again. She was disappointed that Sir Tony had placed himself so far from her chair and now feared that the conversation would never venture from the chase. He might not choose to call again, if he found them incapable of general discussion. She yawned openly, forgetting to cover her mouth, and her mother glanced at her with gentle reproach. But Sophie came to attention when she heard Tony speak. His expression throughout Sir John’s tale had been once again polite and attentive.
    “Did you hunt then, Miss Sadie?” he asked with true admiration.
    “Of course, boy,” answered Sadie, but she sighed. “T’was a bad fall that finished me.”
    Sir John spoke proudly, “Sadie was a game girl, let me tell you. There never was a fence to stop her. My father said she was the best of us all, and all the Corbys hunt.”
    “Do you hunt, Lady Corby?” asked Tony, turning to face his hostess.
    Lady Corby appeared rather ashamed and said weakly, “No, Sir Tony. I am afraid not. But with all the children to look after...”
    “Of course,” he hastened to reassure her. “I had not realized there were so many.”
    “Eight,” said Sir John proudly, “and all the boys fine riders. Emma, too. All of them good Corbys, except Sophie here, who prefers to waste her time writing nonsense when she could be outdoors with the best of them.” He looked at his daughter reproachfully.
    “Enough of that, Sir John!” exclaimed Sadie. “As I remember, Sophie is a fine rider, and if she does not choose to break her neck with the rest of you, well—” and here, though she obviously could not comprehend it, she spoke justly “—then that is her affair. What is this about writing?” she asked Sophie.
    Her niece squirmed uncomfortably under their stares. “It is nothing,” she said dismissively. “I have just been attempting a bit of poetry.”
    “Poetry!” scoffed Sir John. But Tony came to her rescue quickly.
    “That is admirable. Miss Corby,” he said. “I am known to dabble in it myself, though my friends speak rather harshly of the result. They are so critical, in fact, that I may soon find myself reduced to the level of poet abstentious. I have decided to confine myself to birthday odes from now on.”
    “And dashed impudent ones, I’ll warrant,” said Sadie with a laugh. “Hardly fit for royalty! I would be surprised to see a serious sonnet come out of that head of yours.”
    Sir John did not appear to like the turn of the conversation. “Well, you fellows in Town get up to a deal of foolish nonsense, I know. But it beats me how Sophie can waste her time on poetry. It ought