"Oh, I believe he was sold, soon after you left home," Rorie answered carelessly.
"Sold!" echoed Vixen drearily. "Poor dear thing! Yes, I felt sure Captain Winstanley would sell him. But I hoped——"
"What?"
"That some one I knew might buy him. Lord Mallow perhaps."
"Lord Mallow! Ah, you thought he would buy your horse, for love of the rider. But you see constancy isn't one of that noble Irishman's virtues. He loves and he rides away—when the lady won't have him, bien entendu. No, Arion was sent up to Tattersall's, and disposed of in the usual way. Some fellow bought him for a covert hack."
"I hope the man wasn't a heavy weight," exclaimed Vixen, almost in tears.
She thought Rorie was horribly unfeeling.
"What does it matter? A horse must earn his salt."
"I had rather my poor pet had been shot, and buried in one of the meadows at home," said Vixen plaintively.
"Captain Winstanley was too wise to allow that. Your poor pet fetched a hundred and forty-five guineas under the hammer."