“I thought, a week ago,” said Dr. Lane, “that my son and your daughter intended to remain for ever in a state of armed neutrality. They bristled at sight of each other, like two terriers, and politeness was all that restrained them from combat. There were even indications that the politeness was wearing thin. And look at them now!”
He waved a hand towards the little flat below the house, where Robin and Barry, mounted on ponies borrowed from Mr. Merritt, had erected a brush hurdle and were taking turns in jumping. The ponies were awkward, and the riders not highly skilled; when they succeeded in making the steeds face the hurdle they did not always get them over; when they got them over they rarely remained in the saddle. These minor defects did not chill the ardour of the riders. Shouts of laughter echoed up the hill, mingled with mutual comments that lacked nothing of frankness. Beyond doubt, the partnership was firmly established.
“This seems to be the result of impromptu mixed bathing,” said Mrs. Hurst, laughing, as her eyes dwelt on Robin. “I still shiver at the thought of my girl’s danger—but I am not altogether sorry it happened. They are very happy together. And it is so good for Robin to have a friend. She did not realize how lonely she was.”
“She didn’t suggest loneliness. I think the companionship between you was very delightful, and she will find it so again when Barry has gone. But youth calls to youth. As for Barry—it has always been our regret that he has no sister. To be friends with a girl like your Robin is very good for him.”
“Barry doesn’t in the least regard Robin as a girl,” said Mrs. Lane, from the couch where she was generally to be found, in spite of the fact both silk-clad ankles were equally slender. “He told me this morning that the best thing about her was that she was just like a boy. ‘No silly girl-tricks!’ said Barry. ‘I can’t stand girls!’ And he was quite sure he meant it.”
“And yet he has many little chivalrous ways with her that he certainly would not show for another boy,” Mrs. Hurst remarked. “I do not think he even knows he has them. But they are there, all the same.”
“I’m glad to hear that you have noticed that,” said Dr. Lane. “I thought I had, too: but I was afraid it might be only desire to think so on my part!”
“Oh, no; I have seen a dozen little proofs. Why, I found him cleaning her boots to-day!”
“That is indeed a proof, for it is hard enough to make him clean his own when he is at home,” said Mrs. Lane, laughing. “When Barry cleans a boot he declines to perceive that it has any back. Oh, look!—his pony jumped the hurdle without knocking it down, and he didn’t fall off! My Barry will be a jockey before he leaves here.”
“I only hope we shall return him to you undamaged,” said Mrs. Hurst.