“The Clover would be just as happy with anybody else rowing it as with you in it, Frank.”
“What has that got to do with it?”
“Why, my poor Neptune would break his heart to go away from his home and from me.”
“Nonsense! Horses get used to things.”
“Frank, you know how much I love my pony, and there is only one Neptune in the whole world for me; but there are plenty of boats that you wouldn’t know from the Clover, that you can have some day.”
“Pshaw! Neptune would fetch a couple of hundred dollars, I think, though he is rather slow and getting a little old.”
“Yes, that is it!” burst out Kate, with a flood of tears running down her face. “He is getting old, and somebody would begin to abuse him and sell him cheap by-and-by; and he’d be driven off, lame and half starved, by a cruel old fellow from a horse-market in New York. I’ve seen them when I’ve been there, and I’ve just wanted to be the general of the biggest army that ever marched, and see if I couldn’t set some things right and save the poor, old, lame, hungry beasts that had done their best in their best days, working away for their masters. Frank, Neptune sha’n’t be sold to send you to school—there now!” and Kate ran off to the stable and was having her cry out, with her arms around Neptune’s neck, when Harry Cornwall, passing by, heard her sobbing.
“What has happened, Kittie?” he questioned, looking in.
It was too late for Kate to pretend that she was not crying and in real trouble, but Kate was too loyal to her parents to tell what had happened, and so she said:
“Thank you, Harry, it isn’t anything that I can tell you about. Perhaps you will know some day.”