The conversation turned upon horseback riding, and it brought a strange pang to Dorothy's heart, for that had been the most pleasurable accomplishment she had learned during the first few weeks she had been at Gray Gables, and she loved it passionately.
In the very hour when they told her that she would for evermore be blind—stone-blind—the cry that had sprung to her lips was, "And can I never again ride Black Beauty?" and she bowed her head in a storm of wild and tempestuous grief.
For many a day after Harry would not even have the name of Black Beauty mentioned in her hearing. And now how strange that he should bring up the subject in her presence!
"I am sorry it is raining, Miss Vincent," he said, "for I had promised myself such a pleasure for this morning. I had intended asking you to join me in a canter over the country. This is just the season of the year to enjoy the bracing air. We have a little horse in the stable that would delight you, if you are a judge of equine flesh. Its very name indicates what it is—Black Beauty. You ride, of course?"—this interrogatively.
"Oh, yes!" declared Iris; "and I always thought it would be the height of my ambition if I could own a horse."
"That would be a very slight ambition to gratify," returned Harry Kendal. "You may have—"
He was about to add, "Black Beauty," but at that instant his eyes fell upon Dorothy. She was leaning forward, her sightless eyes turned in his direction, with a world of anguish in them that would have melted a heart of stone.
Mrs. Kemp saw the storm approaching, and said, hastily:
"I have always been thinking of buying a pony for my niece, and if she is a very good girl, she may get one for Christmas."
Harry looked his thanks to Mrs. Kemp for coming to his rescue so timely.