His horse reared up and nearly unseated him

— Let’s go and see your friend, unless you’re ashamed of my company.
— I would certainly be very proud…, but my friend lives in Auteuil. You might not wish to go that way?
— On the contrary, it was precisely to Auteuil that I intended to ride today.
— Well… my friend is sick, said Henri increasingly disconcerted, and perhaps your visit…
— Laubespin, the old man said in a cutting voice, admit that it is not as easy to lie as is commonly imagined.
— Uncle, this is a remark…
— Which tells your praise. The useless torture through which you’ve been putting your mind for a few minutes, in an attempt to make up a fairytale that would get you rid of my presence, shows for certain that you are very new to lying. I congratulate you.
— But Uncle, said Henry, who appeared to be in agony, why would I tell you a fairytale?
— Why? I’ll tell you in a minute. As for the story, please allow me to give it a small variation, and right now. The sick gentleman who lives in Auteuil is a very healthy young lady who lives in Madrid.
Laubespin started so violently that his horse, annoyed by this unexpected jolt, reared up and nearly unseated him.
— Lean forward, for God’s sake! Do it now or never do it again, his uncle shouted, fearing an accident. But the masterly energy with which Henri, after a first moment of shock, controlled his horse soon reassured the old man.
Outraged to see his secret in the hands of the general, but having no choice but to champ at the bit – how to give way to one’s anger against a sixty-five year old uncle? – Laubespin felt some relief in having Soliman at hand, and gave him the hardest whip stoke the poor animal ever got, on the pretext of correcting him.
— Nasty, nasty! Said Roquefeuille, we need justice in everything, even with horses.
 
Extract from Un beau-père (A stepfather), by C. de Bernard, published in Les Bons Romans, 1862.