Then Tommy awoke and found it was daylight, and that the robin was singing on his windowsill expectant of crumbs.
. . . . . . .
Spring came all at one glad bound to the fields and woods of Craigielea this year.
Three weeks had passed away since the night Tommy had dreamt that strange dream. Captain Herbert had gone south. He would sail round the world before he returned to Craigielea to take his “little lass,” as he called ’Theena, away with him again. Meanwhile he knew she would be well cared for, and grow bigger and stronger.
Tommy’s brothers had made no attempt, or very little of an attempt, to win ’Theena over. True, Jack had mounted her once or twice on Glancer; but Glancer, knowing the responsibility of such a charge, could not be induced to break even into a decent trot. So Jack got tired of ’Theena, and told her she might never expect to make a cow-boy.
And Dick could not get the girl to race, or play cricket or hockey, though he tried hard; and she was not even good at climbing trees nor riding on fences, and was positively afraid of Towsie, the white, shorthorn bull, because he had red eyes and tore up the ground with a fore-foot, while he bellowed like distant thunder.
“It’s no good, Jack,” said Dick; “we couldn’t make anything of ’Theena if we tried ever so long.”
“I don’t think so, Dick,” was Jack’s reply. “Besides, what is the use of girls anyhow?”
“Not much. I really want to know what they are put into the world for at all.”
“Well,” said Jack, “we’ll give her up, won’t we? Little Cinderella can have her for a plaything, can’t he?”