“But he didn’t, Aunt Lucinda; he behaved beautifully, after the first. And he did go—it was riding!”
And when, presently, Miss Clyde had gone over to inquire about Alec, Blue Bonnet came to sit in her favorite place, the hearth-rug, her head on her grandmother’s knee. “Grandmother,” she said softly, “I’m very—happy.”
Mrs. Clyde smoothed back the tumbled hair with a hand that trembled a little. “And I, too, dear—though possibly from a different reason. I am very glad I didn’t know about that ride at the time, Blue Bonnet.”
“Grandmother, there’s some use now trying to make myself fit to go back—I’m not afraid any more. I don’t think I ever shall be—again. I was,—when Sarah asked me to go,—horribly afraid. Then Victor wouldn’t let me mount, and I forgot everything else but my determination to make him. And then, oh, Grandmother, just when it was the hardest,—after we were off, I mean, and Victor was acting—rather lively,—it suddenly came over me that I wasn’t in the least afraid.”
“I am very glad, dear. Do you remember wanting to do something ‘very particular’ for Alec?”
“But Grandmother, this wasn’t anything! Kitty would have gone if I hadn’t.”
“Kitty would have had to walk, dear, and you were only just in time to catch the doctor. In such cases, the sooner help comes the better.”
For a moment Blue Bonnet did not answer. When she did speak, it was to ask, “Grandmother, can it be arranged? I should like to have a saddle-horse now.”
“I think it can, dear.”
“General Trent said something about a mare belonging to Mr. Darrel. I’ve seen her; she is a beauty—such a match for Victor.”