ut for me a
bit just at first. I've always been foolish over her since she was
ill."

"But if Uncle sells the colt I s'pose you won't sell her, will you?"
continued Lilac.

"He _won't_ sell him," was Peter's decided answer, as he turned to his
work again.

Now, nothing could have been more determined than Mr Greenways' manner
as he rode away, but yet when Lilac heard Peter speak so firmly she felt
he must be right. The colt would not be sold and None-so-pretty would
have to go in his place. She returned to the farm more than ever
impressed by Peter's power. Quiet, dull Peter who seemed hardly able to
put two sentences together, and had never an answer ready for his
sisters' sharp speeches.

That evening when Bella and Agnetta returned from Lenham, Lilac was at
the gate. She had been watching for them eagerly, for she was anxious
to hear all about the grand things they had seen, and hoped they would
be inclined to talk about it. As they were saying goodbye to Mr Buckle
with a great many smiles and giggles, the farmer came out.

"Stop a bit, Buckle," he said, "I want a word with you about the colt.
I've changed my mind since the morning."

Lilac heard no more as she followed her cousins into the house; but
there was no need. Peter had been right.

During supper nothing was spoken of but the fete--the balloon, the band,
the fireworks, and the dresses, Charlotte Smith's in particular. Lilac
was intensely interested, and it was trying after the meal was over to
have to help Molly in taking away the dishes, and lose so much of the
conversation. This business over she drew near Agnetta and made an
attempt to learn more, but in vain. Agnetta was in her loftiest mood,
and though she was full of private jokes with Bella, she turned away
coldly from her cousin. They had evidently some subject of the deepest
importance to talk of which needed constant whispers, titters from
Bella, and even playful slaps now and then. Lilac could hear nothing
but "He says--She says," and then a burst of laughter, and "go along
with yer nonsense." It was dull to be left out of it all, and she
wished more than ever that she had gone to the fete too.

"Lilac," said her aunt, "just run and fetch your uncle's slippers."

She was already on her way when the farmer took his pipe out of his
mouth and looked round. He had been moody and cross all supper-time,
and now he glanced angrily at his two daughters as they sat whispering
in