She turned about.

“What?”

“You’re afraid of Aintree.”

The girl, who in many matters was still a child, flared at once.

“Afraid of Aintree!” she cried.  “I’ll show you whether I’m afraid of Aintree or not!”

She marched down the passage, pursued by his mocking laughter, and went out into the yard with nodding head and flashing eyes.

Then she walked to the gate and looked across the Paddock Close.

Mr. Haggard was walking slowly up toward the church to take the children’s service.  On the public path by the stile were two figures engaged in conversation.  She recognized them at once.  They were Joses and Monkey Brand.

Thoughtfully she crossed into the stable.

It was Sunday afternoon, and there was nobody about but Maudie, who departed coldly on the entrance of the girl, suspecting trouble.  Maudie’s suspicions were but too well-founded.

The girl went straight to Four-Pound-the-Second’s loose-box and opened it.  The Monster-without-Manners emerged and greeted his mistress with yawns.  The brown horse with the tan muzzle shifted slowly toward her.  She ran her eye over him, adjusted a bandage, and went out into the yard.

Billy accompanied her, for he always passed his Sunday afternoons with his mistress.

As she left the stable Monkey Brand was entering the yard.

“What was Joses saying, Brand?” she asked sharply.

The little man did not seem to see or hear her.  But as he passed her, she thought he dropped an eyelid.  Then he limped swiftly on into the saddle-room.

Boy, balancing on the ladder, looked after him.

Then she went up into the loft, Billy Bluff at her heels trying with whimpers to thrust by that he might hold communion with fair Maudie on the top rung.

Maudie watched the approaching feet with sullen and apathetic disdain.  When they were almost on her she rose suddenly.  The languid lady with the manners of a West-End drawing-room became the screaming fish-wife of Wapping.  She humped, swore, and scampered away to the loft, there to establish herself upon a cross-beam, where she was proof against assault.

Boy crossed the loft, entered her room, and closed the door.

She glanced out of the window.

Joses was crossing the Paddock Close toward the cottage where he lodged.

She watched him closely.

He was going to try it on.  She was sure of it.

Then she would try it on him; and she would show no mercy.

She looked at herself in the glass, and smiled at what she saw.

Mr. Silver’s affront still clouded her face, and the thought of Joses struck from the cloud a flash of lightning.

Suddenly an idea came to her.  Her eyes sparkled, and she laughed merrily.

She let down her hair.

It was short, fine, and thick; massy, Mr. Haggard called it.  Then she took a pair of scissors and began to snip.  Flakes of gold fell on the floor and strewed her feet.  She stood as on a threshing-floor.