"Billy Bluff," she said. "Steady, you ass!—How can I loose you?—There!"
She eased the spring of his leash. He was off with a bound, gambolling about her like a wave of the sea.
Albert was messing about the buggy in leisurely fashion.
"Hurry, Albert!" came the deep voice.
"Yes, Miss," replied the other, more leisurely than ever.
"Bring that clothes-brush along and brush Mr. Silver's coat when you've finished fooling," she said.
Then she took the rug from the buggy and went back to Goosey Gander.
The young man in his pink shirt-sleeves, his baggy white breeches, and polo boots, was walking the old horse gravely up and down, talking to him.
His back was to the girl, and she watched him with kind eyes.
She was thinking how like he and Goosey Gander were: good big uns both, as her father would say; clean-bred, large-boned, great-hearted, quiet-mannered. But the man was just coming into his prime, while the horse was well past his.