"Oh, oh! and did you hear?" She leaned closer to him, her lips rigid with expectation. "I'm afraid there was a hitch after all. The taxpayers are so opposed to spending money."
"It went through like greased lightning," he smiled. "Your name and suggestions were mentioned in every speech that was made in both houses."
He saw her face fill with delight. She put the butt of her riding-whip to her lips, and her breast heaved high and sank, quivering.
"Oh, isn't it splendid—splendid?" she exclaimed.
"Thanks to you, Dolly—you, and no one else."
"No, no, it was growing all along. I only helped a little, perhaps. But it doesn't matter who did it; it is done. They will build the schools."
"And you and I will help with suggestions, won't we?" He looked at her, quite timidly. "I mean, of course, that we have learned some lessons in the house we are now building. We have made mistakes here and there that may be avoided in the future."
She said nothing, and he was sure that she purposely avoided his tentative stare. She bent over the horse's neck, ran the thick glossy mane through her fingers, and gently patted the animal's shoulder.
"Jarvis, you must tell me something about this horse," she said, firmly. "I'm going to know the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
"You want to know his pedigree?" He was staring sheepishly. "Well—"