TheCompleteMemoirsOfGeorgeSherston

As for myself, I began to believe that I hadn't done
so badly after all. I talked quite big about it when I
was alone with my aunt at lunch on Sunday, and she
was delighted to listen to everything I could tell her
about my exploits. Probably it was the first time in
my life that I was conscious of having got the upper
hand of my grown-up relative. When she asked
whether there were "any other little boys out on their
ponies'9 I was nonplussed for a moment; I couldn't
connect young Milden with such a disrespectful way
of speaking. Little boys out on their ponies indeed!
I had more than half a mind to tell her how I'd
followed the great Mr. Macdoggart over that fence,
but I managed to remind myself that the less said
about that incident the better for my future as a fox-
hunter.

"Yes," I replied, "there was a very nice boy on a
splendid little chestnut. He's staying atDumborough
Park." When I told her his name she remembered
having met some of his people years ago when she
was staying in Northamptonshire. They had a big
place near Davcntry, she said, and were a well-
known sporting family. I packed these details away
' in my mind with avidity. Already I was weaving
Master Milden into my day-dreams, and soon he had
become my inseparable companion in all my imagined
adventures, although I was hampered by the fact that
I only knew him by his surname. It was the first
time that I experienced a feeling of wistfiilness for
someone I wanted to be with.

As a rule I was inclined to be stand-offish about
children's parties, though there weren't many in our