"You must be more careful in future," he answered. "Not that I want you to be afraid—like Eileen. This brute had no business here. He must have broken through the hedge. He might have got into the foals' paddock. There's a way in for anything very determined where the water runs in that far ditch."
"Oh, I'm glad he didn't get in among the pretty foals."
"It would have been a horrible thing, but better the foals than you."
He looked at her with a simple boyish tenderness. There was something childish about her beauty, something boyish about the slight figure and the curly head, borne out by her frank gaze.
"I wish I had killed the brute," he said, with a vengeful glance in the direction of the quietly-feeding bull.
"You probably cut him with that stone, poor beast."
"Yes: it had a good sharp edge. How lucky I found it just there!"
He noticed that she turned very pale. Quickly his arm went round her to give her support.
"You poor little thing!" he said. "I am so sorry. Are you better now?"
The colour came back to her face. She withdrew gently from his arm.