One of these
was getting on very well--that was Buller. The other seemed about to
sink, his arms were uselessly waving in the air--that was himself. But
he opened his eyes and looked bravely out of the window; it was time
to conquer all this; it was indeed growing ridiculous. Buller had been
sailing many years and had never been upset.
"Yes," said he; "I will do it; I am ready any time you name."
Mr. Buller rose and stretched out his hand.
"Good!" said he; "it is a compact!"
Buller was the first to make the promised country visit. He had not
mentioned the subject of horses to his friend, but he knew through
Mrs. Buller that Podington still continued to be his own driver. She
had informed him, however, that at present he was accustomed to drive
a big black horse which, in her opinion, was as gentle and reliable as
these animals ever became, and she could not imagine how anybody could
be afraid of him. So when, the next morning after his arrival, Mr.
Buller was asked by his host if he would like to take a drive, he
suppressed a certain rising emotion and said that it would please him
very much.
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