"Oh no? He offered me a pair of his best Antwerp pigeons for her. And I wanted the pigeons; but I wouldn't let him have that young doe!" exclaimed Edgar, with a smile on his white face.
"You wouldn't? Oh, I'm so glad!" exclaimed Harry.
"I thought you would be," returned Edgar with another bright smile. "I told him I wanted her for somebody else. Push on, Harry. Let's get round to the stable."
Harry pushed with all his might, while his face flushed up to the roots of his hair; for he could not help thinking—
"I wonder if Master Edgar is going to give that doe to me! But no, that's all nonsense! I won't think of such a thing; of course he is saving it for one of his friends! Shouldn't I like her, though!"
It seemed to Harry quite a long way to the stable, so anxious was he to get there. At last he wheeled the chair into the yard.
"Fetch out the young ones, and let me have a good look at them," said Edgar. "Bring them out one by one; but bring the young doe last."
"All right!" said Harry. And leaving the chair, away he rushed, opened the door of the stable, where, to his delight, he saw the great prize buck in a hutch, and the doe and four young ones all hopping about among a quantity of fragrant hay.
Harry shouted with joy—
"Oh, Master Edgar! Oh, how they've grown! You won't know them! They're lovely!"