opportunity of slipping
away and hurrying to the stable. The moment he lays his hand upon the
latch, the pony neighs the loudest pony's greeting; before he has
crossed the threshold, the pony is capering about his loose box (for he
brooks not the indignity of a halter), mad to give him welcome; and
when Kit goes up to caress and pat him, the pony rubs his nose against
his coat, and fondles him more lovingly than ever pony fondled man. It
is the crowning circumstance of his earnest, heartfelt reception; and
Kit fairly puts his arm round Whisker's neck and hugs him.

But how comes Barbara to trip in there? and how smart she is again!
she has been at her glass since she recovered. How comes Barbara in
the stable, of all places in the world? Why, since Kit has been away,
the pony would take his food from nobody but her, and Barbara, you see,
not dreaming that Christopher was there, and just looking in, to see
that everything was right, has come upon him unawares. Blushing little
Barbara!

It may be that Kit has caressed the pony enough; it may be that there
are even better things to caress than ponies. He leaves him for
Barbara at any rate, and hopes she is better. Yes. Barbara is a great
deal better. She is afraid--and here Barbara looks down and blushes
more--that he must have thought her very foolish. 'Not at all,' says
Kit. Barbara is glad of that, and coughs--Hem!--just the slightest
cough possible--not more than that.

What a discreet pony when he chooses! He is as quiet now as if he were
of marble. He has a very knowing look, but that he always has. 'We
have hardly had time to shake hands, Barbara,' says Kit. Barbara gives
him hers. Why, she is trembling now! Foolish, fluttering Barbara!

Arm's length? The length of an arm is not much. Barbara's was not a
long arm, by any means, and besides, she didn't hold it out straight,
but bent a little. Kit was so near her when they shook hands, that he
could see a small tiny tear, yet trembling on an eyelash. It was
natural that he should look at it, unknown to Barbara. It was natural
that Barbara should raise her eyes unconsciously, and find him out.
Was it natural that at that instant, without any previous impulse or
design, Kit should kiss Barbara? He did it, whether or no. Barbara
said 'for shame,' but let him do it too--twice. He might have done it
thrice, but the pony kicked up his heels and shook his head, as if he
were suddenly taken with c