"
They turned homewards, cantering quickly over the paddocks; the going
was too good, Norah said, to waste on walking; and it was a delight to
feel the long, even stride under one, and the gentle wind blowing upon
one's cheeks. As he rode, Mr. Linton watched the eager, vivid little
face, alight with the joy of motion. If Bobs were keen, there was no
doubt that his mistress was even keener.
They crossed the log fence again by what Norah termed "the direct
route," traversed the home paddock, and drew up with a clatter of hoofs
at the stable yard. Billy, a black youth of some fame concerning
horses, came forward as they dismounted and took the bridles. But Norah
preferred to unsaddle Bobs herself and let him go; she held it only
civil after he had carried her well. She was leading him off when the
dusky retainer muttered something to her father.
"Oh, all right, Billy," said Mr. Linton. "Norah, those fellows from
Cunjee have come to see me about buying sheep. I expect I shall have to
take them out to the paddock I don't think you'd better come."
"All right, Dad." Sheep did not interest Norah very much. "I think I'll
go down to the lagoon."
"Very well, don't distinguish yourself by falling in," said her father,
with a laugh over his shoulder as he hurried away towards the house.
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