Nothing, not even heart-break, could make Madam Calthorp other than the noble, gracious woman she had always been; and no sign of the burden she was bearing was permitted to inflict itself upon her guests. Yet even her self-reliant spirit gained fresh courage from the support of these friends whom she held in such high esteem; and she was delicately forced to remember that the Judge would be honored if she would make use of him in any way.
“Yes, Steenie, show Beatrice anything. And you will find some roses in the garden, the sort her mother likes. Thank you; but, Judge, such things are usually very simple. I have had one of the bank men here over night. There is nothing left, absolutely, beyond my trifling amount of real estate. I shall put this house on the market, and dispose of it as speedily as possible. I have already written to accept an offer which I had for the little farm; and—that is all. If you hear of a small cottage anywhere in town, that is not in an objectionable neighborhood, will you kindly let me know? And now—let us talk about your horses. I’m sure that Daniel will enjoy a description of them. He is quite a horse-lover, though not like Steenie—all horse! Did you ever know a taste so marked? It amounts almost to a passion with her; due to her training at Santa Felisa, I suppose. Well, it has made her a perfectly healthy and wonderfully happy child. I am grateful to the odd rearing for that much, at least.”
“And for much more!—that is, you may be!” returned the Judge, impulsively. His heart was still glowing warmly with thoughts of Steenie’s brave desire, and the words escaped him almost unconsciously.
“Indeed! How so? I fear that even her last intercourse with the equine race is about over for poor little Steenie.”
“It should not be. No, no; it must not be!—that would be a crime. Let me tell you, please,” and the gentleman described, far more minutely and eloquently than the little girl had done, her marvellous influence over Diablo, and her instruction of himself. He concluded enthusiastically: “It is her gift—Heaven-sent! She is the best friend the horse ever had, I believe. And that child’s beneficent influence is destined to work a complete revolution, hereabouts, in the future treatment of the noble animals. It is as if she had a magical power of entering into their very feelings, inclinations, joys, and sufferings. I never witnessed anything like it! Yet the only explanation she can give is: ‘It isn’t anything I do. I don’t know how to explain it—only I just love them so!’ My dear Madam, your grandchild is a phenomenon. Better than that—she is the bravest, noblest little creature who ever lived.”
“Judge, Judge! You are too enthusiastic, and too kind!” answered Steenie’s amazed grandmother.
“Enthusiastic, perhaps; but I could not be too kind to a child like that. It is an honor to serve her. She has taught me, not only what a fool I have been about horses, but how to meet trouble, disaster. Listen to this: here is her idea—that baby’s!”
Launched upon his subject, Judge Courtenay poured out the whole story. Steenie’s half-formed plans had taken full shape and detail under the consideration of his own maturer mind, and not only this, but he had actually decided, mentally, upon the children to be selected for her first pupils. He could not see one good reason why the project was not wholly feasible, with Sutro and himself to “back” it with age and experience.
“She shall have the course at Rookwood for ordinary weather; and I will have a great building erected for stormy days. I know several persons who have valuable colts, and they will gladly avail themselves of her gentle method of ‘breaking in.’ They shall pay her well, too! The school terms we will regulate by those of city riding-schools; and she shall have the use of as many of my horses as is necessary, besides her own Tito. That old Sutro is just the fellow to assist; and my grooms shall do the rough work.”
“Pardon me, Judge, but it appears to me as if this were to be your school,—not my little daughter’s!” exclaimed Mr. Calthorp, smilingly.