"Well, child, that is honorable and right," Mr. Dinsmore said in a pleasanter tone; "but I think we will let the matter rest now till your father comes, which I trust will be before a very great while."
Rosie, knowing that her grandfather was quite capable of carrying out his threat, lacking neither the ability nor the will to do so, curtailed the liberty of her pet, and exerted herself to keep him out of mischief.
Still, he occasionally came in Lulu's way, and when he did was very apt to receive a blow or kick.
He had a fashion of catching at her skirts with his teeth, and giving them a jerk, which was very exasperating to her—all the more so, that Rosie evidently enjoyed seeing him do it.
A stop would have been put to the "fun" if the older people of the family had happened to be aware of what was going on; but the dog always seemed to seize the opportunity when none of them were by, and Lulu scorned to tell tales.
One morning, about a week after the accident to the book, Lulu, coming down a little before the ringing of the breakfast-bell, found Max on the veranda.
"Don't you want to take a ride with me after breakfast, Lu?" he asked. "Mamma Vi says I can have her pony; and, as Rosie doesn't care to go, of course you can ride hers."
"How do you know Rosie doesn't want to ride?" asked Lulu.
"Because I heard her tell her mother she didn't; that she meant to drive over to Roselands with grandpa Dinsmore instead; that he had told her he expected to go there to see Cal about some business matter, and would take her with him. So you see, her pony won't be wanted; and grandma Elsie has often said we could have it whenever it wasn't in use or tired, and of course it must be quite fresh this morning."
"Then I'll go," said Lulu with satisfaction; for she was extremely fond of riding, especially when her steed was Rosie's pretty, easy-going pony, Gyp.