Albert stood back with folded arms to admire his masterpiece. The beauty of it over-awed his naturally irreverent spirit.
"'Ush!" he said.
But a rude voice burst in on his silent rapture.
"Albert!" it called peremptorily.
The artist turned round to see Boy leading the old mare into the yard.
"Yes, Miss."
"Take Mr. Silver's pony."
"Yes, Miss."
"Jerry, put Billy Bluff on the chain. Stanley, put that chestnut's muzzle on."
She led the old mare to the gate that opened on the Paddock Close.