“Lord, I wish you’d been a boy!”
“So do I.”
They started off. She had discarded the old Shetland pony as too childish, and demanded a real steed. So Wally had given her a small Peruvian horse, delicately made and fleet of foot. She rode him like a leaf on the wind. She jumped hedges and fences and ditches; she did circus tricks, and finally nagged Wally’s Nero into a race.
“You’re some rider, Isabelle,” he said, on the way home.
“You bet I am!” she replied.
At the door Matthews, the butler, announced that the new governess had arrived.
“Damn it!” ejaculated Isabelle.
Wally reproved her sharply, but she was inattentive.
“Let’s fire her, Wally, and you take care of me.”