‘Money!’ he cried; ‘did you suppose I was thinking of money? Ye do me great injustice, Miss Janet--but it’s no fault of yours.’ ‘Oh,’ she cried, ‘it was because you said she was mine. Now she cannot be mine unless I buy her--and I cannot buy her. Oh, what have I said wrong? I did not mean to say anything wrong.’ ‘That I’m sure of,’ said Charlie, ‘and maybe you’re too young to understand that the pony’s yours and her master’s yours, and not a penny wanted--but something else.’ Janet was greatly bewildered by the look in his eyes. She glanced at him, then turned her eyes away. She could not think what had happened. He was not angry. He looked quite kind; almost more kind than ever. But she could not look at him any more (she said to herself) than she could look at the sun shining. He was leaning down towards her from his big horse, and Janet felt very uncomfortable, confused, and distressed. ‘Oh, but you must not,’ she said--‘not keep her for me. It is very kind, and I will never forget it, to let me ride her--and she is a delightful pony. But I could not take her as a present, and I could not buy her, and you must just--you must just--never mind, for I cannot help it. Oh, I am afraid it has been all wrong,’ cried Janet, though she could not tell why. ‘Not a bit,’ said Charlie Blackmore. ‘It’s been the happiest time I’ve had all my life, and if you will never forget, as you say----’ ‘How should I forget?’ said Janet. ‘You have been so very kind, and she is the most delightful pony I ever saw. But please let us go home now, for they will be sure to miss me, and everything is in a confusion; for it is our last day.’ ‘That’s just the very reason why I would like to keep you a little longer,’ said Charlie; ‘for what am I to do after you’re gone? I will just wait and think long till you come back. It’s a long, long time till next year, and I’m feared you’ll never think more of me, or the pony, when you’re gone.’ ‘Oh yes I will, indeed I will,’ said Janet. ‘Oh, Mr. Charlie, let us get back. I am afraid somebody will see us--and mother will be vexed.’ ‘Well, if it must be so--here we are at the little gate,’ he said with a sigh. He got off his horse and fastened it, and then lifted her off the pony. ‘What are ye going to give me for my hire,’ he said, holding her for a moment. ‘I’ve been a good groom to ye. Just a kiss for my pains before you go.’ ‘Oh!’ cried Janet, wrenching herself away. Fright and shame and anger gave her wings. She darted in at the little gate which gave access to a side path towards the back of the house, and fled without ever looking back. But she had not gone far when she ran full upon Beaufort, who was going tranquilly along across the park, just where the path debouched. She was upon him before either of them perceived. Janet was flushed with shame and terror, and her eyes full of tears. She gave a cry of alarm when she saw who it was. ‘Janet! What’s the matter? You look as if something had happened.’