Surely it was. I had watched them until it stirred every pulse within me. Chita seemed human in her enjoyment.
Old Shubenca's inspiration seemed to give out, though she eyed Polly suspiciously. The last two fortunes might have pleased little girls. They were of new frocks and surprises, and a great pleasure coming this way, and some one who cared for you, listened to with girlish giggles.
Dan set down Letty Dole, who was profuse in her expressions of delight. I don't know whether I looked wistful. I wanted to hug Chita and she turned and put her nose in my hand. What mystery was there in her eyes?
"We must all go home," began Polly, peremptorily, turning the girls in a kind of squad.
"Here's one who has not ridden Chita, nor any other creature, I think—this little Gaynor girl."
"It's too late, Dan. And then she's such a timid little thing. No, let her alone."
"It's time she had some courage put in her then," and he laughed gayly.
I was not a coward. I often ran over the wretched bridges when the logs tilted so that you were in danger of falling in. And I really was not afraid of ghosts nor cows, not even mice.
"No, no. Let her alone. Come, children. Come, Ruth."
Dan Hayne was fond of having his own way, and crossing other people's wills. There was an imperious note in Polly's tone. How it happened in an instant no one perhaps could have told. I turned, Chita backed a step or two, and then a strong arm caught me just above the waist line, and I was whirled up on Chita's back in front of Dan.