"Not at all. Do not be disturbed, Miss Dooris; I never think anything."
"Mr. Head is poor, and—and tries to make a little money now and then with his horses," she stammered.
"So I—judged."
"And I—try to help him."
"Very natural, I am sure."
He was beginning to feel sorry for the child, and her poor little efforts to gain a few shillings: he had decided that the Colonel's old horses were the wagon-team of this partnership, and "Marcher" the saddle-horse.
"I shall certainly need horses," he said aloud.
"And you will apply to Mr. Head?"
She was so eager that he forgot himself, and smiled.
"Miss Dooris," he said, bowing, "I will apply to Mr. Head, and only to him; I give you my word."