“We have something to talk about,” said her brother-in-law. “This child—this monkey of mine, has made her mark in the world already. She has got a pony of her own.”
“I have heard of it,” said Miss Jennings. “You do not intend to be such a fool as to keep it, Edward.”
“Keep it? I have nothing to do with it. The pony, Bo-peep by name, arrives with his own special groom, and the groom is found food and lodging and paid wages by Mr Durrant—Malcolm Durrant, the great traveller and explorer. I have no expense whatever with the pony. He belongs to Robina, and she has won him by doing some extraordinarily kind action—what, I cannot make out. For goodness’ sake, my dear Felicia, don’t get so excited. It is my turn to say ‘don’t’ to you now. Keep out of the way, if the news is not welcome to you. The pony is coming, and we can’t prevent its coming; it will be here in no time, and the children and Robina will, if I am not greatly mistaken, spend a small part of to-day trying his paces.”
“Then your two young children will be killed!” said Miss Felicia, folding her hands and standing stock-still for a minute and then preparing to leave the room.
A timid laugh from Violet, and a shriek of dismay from Rose greeted this utterance. But Robina clasped Rose in her arms.
“Oh, my pretty sweet!” she said. “Bo-peep won’t kill you. I will get into the side-saddle, and you shall sit in front of me, and I will put my arm round your waist, and you’ll be as steady and safe as old Time.”
“As Ole Time!” echoed Rose, the tears arrested in her eyes.
“There is another bit of news, and you may as well have it first as last,” said Miss Jennings’ brother-in-law. “Robina leaves us in less than a fortnight, to spend the rest of her holidays at a place called Sunshine Lodge.”
“And you permit this?” said Miss Felicia.
“Am I likely to refuse Malcolm Durrant?” was the response.