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frightening the newcomer away.
"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.
Edward smiled and answered frankly, "Nay, don't mind me. You thought I was
the heir, perhaps. Whom did you take my brother for last night?"
"For some guest who admired Miss Beaufort. I did
not hear his name, nor observe him enough to discover who he was. I saw only
your land mother, your charming little sister, and—"
She stopped there, with a half-shy, half-grateful look at the young man which
finished the sentence better than any words. He was still a boy, in spite of
his one-and-twenty years, and a little color came into his brown cheek as the
eloquent eyes met his and fell before them.
"Yes, Bella is a
frightening the newcomer away.
"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.
Edward smiled and answered frankly, "Nay, don't mind me. You thought I was
the heir, perhaps. Whom did you take my brother for last night?"
"For some guest who admired Miss Beaufort. I did
not hear his name, nor observe him enough to discover who he was. I saw only
your land mother, your charming little sister, and—"
She stopped there, with a half-shy, half-grateful look at the young man which
finished the sentence better than any words. He was still a boy, in spite of
his one-and-twenty years, and a little color came into his brown cheek as the
eloquent eyes met his and fell before them.
"Yes, Bella is a
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