They came, riding side by side and jesting with careless camaraderie.  Toby’s face was delicately flushed.  The fair head had no covering.  She was dressed and looked exactly like a boy.

At sight of Saltash standing by the gate her whole attitude changed.  She uttered a queer sound, half-whoop, half-sob, and flung herself out of the saddle.  In a moment she had reached him, was hanging to his arm in mute greeting, everything else in the world forgotten.  It was pathetically like the re-union of a lost dog to its master.

Saltash’s ugly face softened miraculously at her action.  The jest died on his lips.  “Why, Nonette!” he said.  “Nonette!”

She strangled another sob.  Her face was burning, quivering, appealing, no longer the face of a boy.  “I thought you’d forgotten to come,” she said.

“What?  Was I expected to lunch?” said Saltash.  “Ah!  Was that why you wouldn’t go to church?”

Toby looked up, desperately smiling.  “It may have been—­partly.  But I never do go.  Do you?”

“Not often,” said Saltash.  “I might if I stayed here.  There’s no knowing.  You’ll be pleased to hear your daddy is better.  He’s coming down to the Castle to convalesce.  And when he’s done that, I’m going to have a party—­a coming-out party—­for you.”

“For me!” Toby gasped, staring at him with scared blue eyes.  “I hope you won’t, sir,” she said.

He laughed back at her, his brows working mischievously. “Mais pourquoi pas, mignonne? You are old enough.  Maud will come and be hostess, won’t you, Maud?  You shall have Jake too for a watch-dog, if you want him.  After that, you shall be presented at Court, when you’ve learnt to curtsey prettily instead of turning somersaults.  You must let your hair grow, Nonette, and leave off wearing breeks.  You’ve got to be a credit to me.”

“Oh, damn!” said Toby in dismay.  “I mean—­oh, bother!”

“Yes, it’s a good thing you mean only that, isn’t it?” laughed Saltash.  “If you go on wearing those masculine things much longer, you’ll have Jake punching your head for little slips of that kind.  He’s getting mighty particular, I’m told.”

“Not afraid of Jake!” said Toby, casting a swift look at her host.

Jake was lighting his pipe.  His face wore a faint smile.  He was holding Toby’s animal as well as his own.  “Aren’t you going to ride again?” he said.

“No,” said Toby.

“Oh, come on!” Bunny pushed his horse forward without dismounting.  “Glad to see you, Charlie, but we must have one more gallop.  Come on, Toby!  Be a sport!”

But Toby, still holding Saltash’s sleeve, would not so much as look at him.  “Not coming,” she said tersely.

Saltash laughed.  Bunny coloured suddenly and hotly.  “Oh, all right!” he said, and, wheeling his horse, rode away.

“Now you’ve hurt his little feelings,” observed Saltash.

“Who cares?” said Toby, and nestled closer, till with his sudden reckless grin he thrust an arm about her shoulders.