"You've eaten nought to name. I've spoiled your appetite, and you—well, you've done more than you think, and taught me more than you know yourself."
She shrugged her shoulders.
"Mark says puzzling things like that sometimes."
There was another silence.
"You ride a pony, don't you?" he asked presently; and the girl brightened up. Mr. Baskerville possessed some of the best ponies on Dartmoor, and sold a noted strain of his own raising.
"He's going to make it up with a pony!" thought sanguine Cora.
"I do. I'm very fond of riding."
"Like it better than walking, I dare say?"
"Yes, I do."
"And you'd like driving better still, perhaps?"