Part 17 (2/2)
”Oh, I can't! Angel, or Fairy, or Beauty, or something of that sort,”
he answered.
”You burn, you burn--something very nice,” cried Kate. ”Well, then, if you give it up I'll tell you--Sweetlips. We didn't give him the name.
It was what he was called by the person from whom papa bought him, but as he knows it, and will follow like a dog when he is called, we did not like to change it.”
”It's a funny name for a pony, but as he has got it, we will still call him by it, and I shall like it very much,” answered Digby. ”But I say, John Pratt, can't I have a gallop on him at once across the park? I won't be ten minutes away, and it would be so delightful.”
”I sees no reason again it, Master Digby,” replied John; ”I thought as how you'd be liking it, and so I put the new saddle on him, which the Squire sent and made me buy for you.”
”Says he, 'John, our Digby will be coming to cover with me, to see the hounds throw off, and he'll be by my side I hope when I go a coursing; and I wish him to appear as my son should appear, John.' This was afore we bought the pony. I heard of it, and I was certain that it would just do, so the Squire told me to go and settle for it at once, and not to stand on price, and right glad I was when I brought back Master Sweetlips; and says the Squire, 'I never saw a greater beauty in my life, John. He'll just do for our boy. Now go and buy a new saddle and bridle to fit him. You can judge of what it ought to be just as well as I can.' Wasn't I proud; and so, Master Digby, here he is, all your own.
And here's a new whip I bought at the same time. The Squire didn't tell me to get that, but if you'll accept it from an old man, you'll make his heart right glad.”
”Oh, thank you, John--thank you, John Pratt,” exclaimed Digby, his heart so swelling with kindly and grateful feelings that the tears almost came into his eyes. ”You run in, Kate, and say I'll be back directly, but I must have a gallop on Sweetlips.”
John had been a.s.sisting him to mount, and adjusting his stirrups all the time. Away trotted the young heir of Bloxholme, and truly he looked the worthy scion of a st.u.r.dy race. John Pratt stood outside the yard gate, watching him with admiration, and Kate remained on the upper step of the hall-door, gazing at him with affectionate interest, till he was lost to sight among the trees, and the sound of his pony's hoofs died away in the distance.
”He is a dear fellow!” she exclaimed, as at length she entered the house, and ran up stairs to prepare for dinner. She was to dine late that day in honour of Digby's arrival. She antic.i.p.ated a delightful evening. He would have so much to tell her, so much to talk about--she felt so proud of him. He looked so well--so manly, she thought, and was so much improved in every way. Kate dressed and came down to the drawing-room long before dinner-time, that she might have another talk with Digby. He had not made his appearance, so she sat down and took up a book, thinking that he would come soon. Miss Apsley appeared next.
Kate remarked that she thought Digby was a long time dressing for dinner. She ran up to his room, but he was not there. When she came back, expecting to find that he had in the mean time come to the drawing-room, she felt blank at not seeing him.
”He probably is with your papa or mamma, dear,” observed the governess; ”it is scarcely fair to wish to monopolise his society.”
”No, I will not; of course everybody will wish to speak to him,” said Kate, and she resumed her book.
In a few minutes, however, she laid it down again.
”It is very odd that he does not come,” exclaimed Kate; ”I must go and find him.”
She ran again to his room. His evening clothes and shoes were put out, the hot-water jug was on his wash-hand stand untouched, and his hair-brushes were in order on the dressing-table. He evidently had not been there to dress. She ran to her father's room, and then to her mother's and sisters', but he was not with them.
”Then he must be with Mrs Carter,” she said to herself, and away she ran to the housekeeper's room, but Mrs Carter had not seen him nor was he in the nursery.
She was in hopes that he might have gone to play with Gusty before he went to bed. Coming back she met Alesbury, and begged him to send to the stables to ascertain if Digby was still there. Hoping that her brother might have gone into the drawing-room during her absence, she returned there. Her father was standing before the fire, her mother and sisters were sitting down on sofas and comfortable chairs, attempting to s.n.a.t.c.h a few minutes light reading in that generally very idle portion of the day.
”Kate, where is Digby?” asked her father, as she entered.
”I have been looking for him, papa, but I cannot find him,” she answered.
”He has forgotten the dinner-hour, and is still renewing his acquaintance with the horses and dogs,” said the Squire, adjusting his cravat.
He poked the fire, turned himself about before it once or twice, and then took up the newspaper. While thus occupied, the footman abruptly entered the room with a startled expression:--
”Mr Alesbury sent me out to the stable to bring in Master Digby, sir,”
he exclaimed in a hurried tone; ”I went, sir, but neither John Pratt nor any of the men could I see; and while I was there the new pony came trotting in by himself with the reins hanging over his head.”
”What is this, what is this I hear?” cried Mr Heathcote, in a state of great agitation, running to the hall-door.
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