“Of course we can’t,” agreed Mrs. Selden.
Joanne flung herself wildly upon her grandfather. “Oh, please, please,” she cried. “I’ll take care of him; I’ll do anything if you’ll only keep him.”
“You!” exclaimed her grandmother scornfully. “What do you know about horses?”
“But I could, I could. I’d feed him and water him. I’d curry him and I could learn to ride him. Oh, Grad, when kind heaven has sent such a gift like manna from the skies could you have the heart to refuse it?”
“I suppose I shall have to make a pretense of accepting,” responded her grandfather doubtfully. “It would never do to send the creature back. Lopez would be hurt to the core, mortally offended, in fact. He would probably denounce me as one of those boorish Americans who has no idea of courtesy. No, the little beast will have to complete his journey; we can’t pitch him overboard. Meanwhile we’ll decide what is to be done with him. Here, Joanne, don’t make a spectacle of yourself like that. Get up.” For Joanne had prostrated herself in Oriental style at her grandfather’s feet.
She rose, however, at her grandfather’s bidding and went over to her grandmother. “Goodness me, Joanne,” said that lady, “your hands are as cold as ice. I do wish we could keep you from getting so worked up.”
“But who wouldn’t be worked up, when a darling pony is thrust upon one?” argued Joanne.
“You’d be more liable to be worked down in such an event,” remarked her grandfather laughing. “Quiet yourself, Joanne, or I shall have to send you to bed with a hot water bottle.”
“I’m quiet, really I am,” protested Joanne.
“Of course it is an exciting thing for her, you must admit that,” put in Mrs. Selden, taking her granddaughter’s part. “She has every reason to be excited; you would have been at her age. You’re not far from being so now,” she added slyly.