"He's a nice boy!" cried the woman, again embracing the horse.
Clara, fascinated by the big beast, went up to stroke his neck.
"He's quite gentle," said Miss Limb. "Don't you think big fellows are?"
"He's a beauty!" replied Clara.
She wanted to look in his eyes. She wanted him to look at her.
"It's a pity he can't talk," she said.
"Oh, but he can—all but," replied the other woman.
Then her brother moved on with the horse.
"Are you coming in? Do come in, Mr.—I didn't catch it."
"Morel," said Miriam. "No, we won't come in, but we should like to go by the mill-pond."