The Duke, when he got the pair alone, never tired of chaffing them.
"I notice she always gives you the lead, Silver," he mocked.
"Yes, sir," replied the young man. "She makes the hole, and I creep through it afterward."
The couple were talked about, of course; and both were dimly aware of it. Boy was used to being made the subject of gossip; and Silver was almost as unconscious of and aloof from it as were the horses that he rode.
The ladies, to whom he paid no attention, were indignant and resentful.
"It can't be," they said; and—"I hate to see that chit making a fool of a nice man like that."
The Duke, whose ears were growing longer every day, heard them once and began to bellow suddenly in that disconcerting way of his.
"It's all right!" he shouted. "You needn't be afraid. She won't have him."
The ladies jeered secretly. To their minds the question was not whether the girl would have Silver, but whether he would be Mug enough to give her the chance.
Certainly the pair were drawing close.