Poor pony! his life was indeed a hard one, and if it had not been for Chelda, he would have died.
This afternoon he had returned home from a long expedition into the country. He had had a sudden thought of a distant farm on a bleak and barren hillside. Alas! his mistress was not there, and now he stood listlessly regarding the sugar-bowl that Chelda offered him.
All his life he had longed for a whole bowl of sugar. Now he had it and he did not care for it.
"Take it back to the house," said his new mistress, and Prosperity mournfully obeyed her.
Chelda resumed her former position. She always sat here when the weather was fine,—here in her aunt's favourite summer-house that faced down the river toward the sea. She neither read, nor worked, nor saw visitors. She was always alone. Sometimes she smoothed her black dress and thoughtfully turned the mourning ring on her hand, while she gazed at the pony, but she rarely spoke to him. She only caressed him, and he broken-heartedly felt that the house was melancholy, and that with her he was losing interest in life.
On this day there was a kind of inexorable sparkle and brilliancy on land and sky. Everything shone and glittered, and Chelda's weary eyes were dazzled, yet she gazed steadfastly and immovably out at the rippling Bay.
The pony languidly went down to the river to get a drink, then, as he came up with the water dripping from his mouth, he slightly moved his nostrils and stared down the avenue.
His quick hope died within him. The manly step belonged to a man; but it was no stranger that was swinging himself over the gravel. The handsome figure had formerly been well known at French Cross, and only a few months ago those firm white hands had gone all over his trim white body while their owner examined his points.
The man with the radiant, glowing face stopped suddenly. Himself the embodiment of life and hope and perfect happiness, he was inexpressibly touched by the pathos of the little lean pony.
If the pony had changed so completely, what would he see when the gray-haired woman turned her head? Well, no matter, pony and woman would soon belong to him. He would take them both away.