“Oh glory!” said Toby, “There goes the odd trick!”

It was several minutes later, after a wild final romp that they left the room together.  There was certainly no ceremony left between them.  They came out as comrades, laughing at the same joke, their brief passage-at-arms apparently forgotten.

Toby, however, reverted to it very suddenly as they walked along the passage.  “Mr. Bolton, I’m sorry I got Bunny into hot water this afternoon.  It was all my fault.  And I’m sorry I said blazes in front of the babies just now.  You’ll have to kick me when I do these things, and then I’ll remember.”

Jake paused and looked at her.  “Say!  Are you a boy or a girl?” he said.

She smiled, a faintly dubious smile, but her reply was prompt.  “Mostly boy, sir.  That’s what makes it so difficult.”

He put his hand on her shoulder.  “Look here!  Call me Jake, see?  Are you keen on horses?”

Toby’s eyes shone.  “Like mad,” she said.

“I’ll see you ride tomorrow,” said Jake.

Toby whooped with delight.  “But I’ll have to borrow some breeches from someone.  You don’t want me to ride in a skirt do you?”

“Not specially,” said Jake.  “What do you generally ride in?”

“Tights,” said Toby, and then suddenly clapped her hand to her mouth in dismay.  “There!  Now I’ve done it!  You won’t tell—­you’ll never tell, will you?  Promise!”

“Sure!” said Jake.  He was smiling a little, but there was compassion in his eyes.

And Toby’s hand came out to him in sudden confidence.  “I like you,” she said.  “You’re a friend.”

Jake’s grasp was strong and kindly.  “I guess I shan’t let you down,” he said.

Toby nodded.  “You’ve been a cow-boy, haven’t you?  I knew that directly I saw you.”

“I’ve been a good many things,” said Jake.

She nodded again.  “And always the right sort.  I wish—­” She broke off abruptly.

“What?” said Jake.

“Oh, nothing,” said Toby, with a rather wistful little laugh.

“Let’s have it!” said Jake.

Her hand lay in his, and this time she left it there.  Her blue eyes met his courageously.  “Only that I’d met you before,” she said.

“Before when?” said Jake.  “Before you met Saltash?”

“Oh no!” Very swiftly, she answered him.  “Oh no!  Lord Saltash is among the kings.  I’d have been dead by now but for him!” Her eyes kindled as with a sudden glowing memory, she flushed like an eager child.  “You know him?” she said.  “Isn’t he—­isn’t he—­fine?”

She spoke with reverence, even with a certain awe.  The man’s face changed a little, hardening almost imperceptibly.

“Guess he’s no great hero of mine,” he said.  “But maybe he has his points.”

“He has!” Toby assured him with fervor.  “You don’t know him like I do.  He’s a—­he’s a masterpiece.”

“That so?” said Jake.

Perhaps Toby felt a lack of sympathy in his tone; she quitted the subject abruptly.  “No, that wasn’t what I meant.  I only wish I’d met you long ago—­years and years ago—­when you were a cow-boy.”