But, though trembling in every nerve from head to foot, Ellen fancied the Brownie was safer so long as he had her on his back; she would not leave him. She pleaded her best, which Mr. Saunders heard as if it was amusing, and without making any answer, kept the horse capering in front of the bars, pretending every minute he was going to whip him up to take the leap. His object, however, was merely to gratify the smallest of minds by teasing a child he had a spite against; he had no intention to risk breaking her bones by a fall from her horse; so in time he had enough of the bar-place; took the bridle again, and walked on. Ellen drew breath a little more freely.
"Did you hear how I handled your old gentleman after that time?" said Mr. Saunders.
Ellen made no answer.
"No one ever affronts me that don't hear news of it afterwards, and so he found to his cost. I paid him off, to my heart's content. I gave the old fellow a lesson to behave in future. I forgive him now entirely. By the way, I've a little account to settle with you didn't you ask Mr. Perriman this morning if Dr. Gibson was in the house?"
"I don't know who it was," said Ellen.
"Well, hadn't I told you just before he warn't there?"
Ellen was silent.
"What did you do that for, eh? Didn't you believe me?"
Still she did not speak.
"I say!" said Mr. Saunders, touching the Brownie as he spoke "did you think I told you a lie about it? eh?"