after he had finished, and Mrs. Woodburn had broken the
silence with her quiet "Thank you," the young man returned to the
subject he had broached in the stable.

Silver indeed was nothing if not dogged, as the girl was beginning to
find out.

"I say, Miss Woodburn," he began in that casual way of his, "I wish
you'd take charge of that old yellow moke o' mine."

Boy shook her head.

He laughed and drew his chair beside her as she worked. Not seldom now
he doffed the Puritan with her, and became easy, chaffing, almost
gallant. Amersham and his friends would have been amazed had they seen
their sober Jim Silver so much at home with a lady.

"Oh, I say--why not?" he protested, boyish and chaffing.

"He's too much of a handful for me," said the girl gravely, threading
her needle against the light.

He laughed, delighted, smacking his knee as he did when pleased, while
even Ma, who of wont turned a deaf ear on the young couple, smiled
sedately.

"I like that!" cried Silver. "Ha! ha! ho! ho! That's a good un." Then he
turned grave, almost lugubrious. "But of course if you won't have him I
must do something to him. I'm too fond of the old fellow to let him
rot."

Next morning, before he left for London, Boy saw him from her window
holding intimate communion with Monkey Brand in the Paddock Close beside
the wood.

When he had driven away, the girl descended from her eyrie and
cross-examined the little jockey sharply.

Monkey looked secretive and mysterious even for him.

"He's a very queer gentleman," was all he would say. "One o' them that's
been to India without their 'ats, I should say. You know, Miss?" He
tapped his forehead. "Melted a-top."

"What did he _say_?" persisted the girl.

"He said nobody was to exercise Heart of Oak only unless you wanted him.
And he said he'd make up his mind next week."

"Make up his mind?"

"That was the word, Miss."

"Bring me the gun," ordered Boy.

The little man obeyed sulkily.

"It'll be in my room," she said. "And it'll stay there."

"Very good, Miss," replied the jockey, and winked to himself as the girl
ascended the ladder.

That evening, as Old Mat slept noisily by the fire with open mouth, the
two women worked.

Mrs. Woodburn every now and then lifted her eyes to her daughter's face
and let them dwell there, as the sky dwells on a tree.

"D'you like him, Boy?" she asked at length, tranquilly.

The girl for once was taken by surprise. She flushed a li