I smiled guiltily, for I saw Eloise coming out of the house and my heart fluttered queerly at sight of her. She came forward and I saw Goff's roses pinned on her breast.
"This is like old times, Jack," she said laughing, "but where is my horse?" She looked around, glancing at the little pony-mare we had saddled for her.
"I thought you'd like to ride the pony-mare again," said Jim, who stood holding the reins, "like you useter ride with Mr. Jack," he added.
Eloise tossed her head. "No, no; now, Jim, you may saddle Satan for me. Why, I've been dreaming of this for months, a chance to show the splendid fellow and his paces to Jack. I wouldn't miss it for anything."
Jim stood scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Dat devil horse, he ain't a good horse, this mohnin', ma'am, 'specially for ladies."
"Jim," she said sternly, "look me in the eye! What have you been doing to Satan?"
Jim grinned apologetically. "I had to ride him las' night for some med'cine for my sick chile."
"And I told you never to ride him, that he hated the very smell of a negro."
Jim still grinned.
"But you tried him?" she went on.