"I see," she said aloud, laughing to herself. "I am not your master, and
you rebel. Nevertheless, I'll conquer you, my fine brute."
Seating herself in the grass, she began to pull daisies, singing idly
the while, as if unconscious of the spirited prancings of the horse.
Presently he drew nearer, sniffing curiously and eyeing her with
surprise. She took no notice, but plaited the daisies and sang on as if
he was not there. This seemed to pique the petted creature, for, slowly
approaching, he came at length so close that he could smell her little
foot and nibble at her dress. Then she offered the clover, uttering
caressing words and making soothing sounds, till by degrees and with
much coquetting, the horse permitted her to stroke his glossy neck and
smooth his mane.
It was a pretty sight--the slender figure in the grass, the
high-spirited horse bending his proud head to her hand. Edward Coventry,
who had watched the scene, found it impossible to restrain himself any
longer and, leaping the wall, came to join the group, saying, with
mingled admiration and wonder in countenance and voice, "Good morning,
Miss Muir. If I had not seen your skill and courage proved before my
eyes, I should be alarmed for your safety. Hector is a wild, wayward
beast, and has damaged more than one groom who tried to conquer him."
"Good morning, Mr. Coventry. Don't tell tales of this noble creature,
who has not deceived my faith in him. Your grooms did not know how to
win his heart, and so subdue his spirit without breaking it."
Miss Muir rose as she spoke, and stood with her hand on Hector's neck
while he ate the grass which she had gathered in the skirt of her dress.
"You have the secret, and Hector is your subject now, though heretofore
he has rejected all friends but his master. Will you give him his
morning feast? I always bring him bread and play with him before
breakfast."
"Then you are not jealous?" And she looked up at him with eyes so bright
and beautiful in expression that the young man wondered he had not
observed them before.
"Not I. Pet him as much as you will; it will do him good. He is a
solitary fellow, for he scorns his own kind and lives alone, like his
master," he added, half to himself.
"Alone, with such a happy home, Mr. Coventry?" And a softly
compassionate glance stole from the bright eyes.
"That was an ungrateful speech, and I retract it for Bella's sake.
Younger sons have no position but such as they can make for themselves,
you know, and I've had no chance yet."
"Younger sons! I thought--I beg pardon." And Miss Muir paused, as if
remembering that she had no right to question.