round Nell and the colts.

"Please, father, may I give Robin his apple?" she asked. "He has earned
it. May he have it?"

The Squire nodded.

"Of course he may," he said; then he turned to the horse dealer.

"My little girl is fond of these creatures," he said. "I hope you will
have patience for a moment or two."

The man touched his hat respectfully.

"Certainly, sir," he answered, "as long as the young lady likes; there's
no manner of hurry, and perhaps little miss would like to have another
canter. I never see'd no one sit so bird-like on a horse--never, in the
whole of my born days."

"Do you hear that, Nell?" said her father. "Would you like another
canter? I didn't know you could ride bare-backed."

She smiled up at him, a perfectly brave smile; there were no tears in
her eyes, although there were black shadows under them, and her face was
as white as a little snowflake.

Robin munched his apple, and Joe came close to Nell and rubbed his head
against her shoulder.

She fed him also, to his own great surprise, for he did not think that
he had earned a morsel, and then, without a word, turned and walked out
of the paddock.

Boris ran after her.

"I say, Nell!" he exclaimed, panting. "Would you like a white rat? I
have four, and I--I'll give you one if you'll promise not to forget to
feed it."

Nell stood still when Boris made this offer, and looked down into his
ruddy, brown, sunburnt face. Boris had bright eyes, as round as two
moons. The giving up of one of his white rats meant a great deal to him.
Nell carefully weighed the value of the offer.

"No," she said at last in a deliberate tone. "I might forget to feed the
rat, and I don't think I ever could love it; but thank you all the same,
Boris."

"Don't mention it," said Boris, in his most polite tone; he was
immensely relieved by Nell's declining his offer.

She walked slowly towards the house, and Boris turned to Kitty, who had
followed him.

"I offered her a rat," he said; "but she wouldn't have it. Do you think
she will be very bad for a bit?"

"Yes, I do," said Kitty. "She'll creep up into one of the lofts and
burrow in the hay all by herself, and if she can have a right good cry
perhaps she'll be better, but if she hasn't a cry, she'll fret awfully,
and perhaps she'll turn sulky; but never mind about her now. I'm ever so
glad she didn't take the rat. Let's run and feed them before we go to
lessons."

"I wish there were no lessons,"