The Mayflower turned her pretty head away when he spoke of her cruelty, and his brown eyes followed this slight movement with unmistakable eagerness. But she made no answering sign of interest. She looked down at John Temple lying on the grass, and he rose as she did so.
“So you are fond of God’s dumb creatures?” he said.
“I am very fond of horses and dogs,” she answered; “indeed, I think, of all animals.”
“And, no doubt, they are fond of you?”
The girl laughed softly and blushed a little, and then stooped down and stroked poor Juno’s fawn head, who had once more crept to her side, in spite of her master’s lowering looks.
“What a handsome creature!” said John Temple; “and she evidently knows you.”
“Oh, yes; we are old friends,” answered the Mayflower, and she half glanced at the young man she had called Mr. Henderson as she spoke, but he did not look pleased.
“Perhaps you like new friends better?” he said. “Well, good-morning, Miss Churchill,” and once more touching his cap he strode away, whistling for his dogs to follow him.
“Who is the country Adonis?” asked John Temple, smiling.
“Oh, he is called Mr. Tom Henderson of Stourton Grange,” replied the Mayflower, demurely.