"I don't profess to be a jockey, but--a child's pony?"
Jim very nearly lost his temper.
"You won't be convinced," he said, "and I've no desire to convince you
with Bobs. But take my advice and let Norah alone about her pony.
You've a very good mare to ride."
"That old crock!" said Cecil, scornfully.
Jim stared.
"Crock!" he said. "Well, you won't find many hacks to beat old Betty,
even if in your mighty judgment she is a crock. And, anyhow, Bobs is
Norah's, and no one else has any say about him. There's the bell;
ready, chaps?"
The meal was scarcely lively. Cecil maintained an offended silence, and
Jim was too angry to talk, while Norah was silent and a little pale.
However, Cecil retired to his room immediately he had finished; and the
boys set themselves to the task of diverting Norah, fearful lest the
evening's adventure should have any bad effect on her. They succeeded
so well that by bedtime Norah had forgotten all her troubles, and was
weak with laughter. When Wally set out "to blither," as he said, he did
not do things by halves.
Jim came into Norah's room and switched on her light.
"Sure you're all right, kiddie?"
"Rather!" said Norah. "I've laughed too much to be anything else."
"Then go to sleep laughing," said Jim, practically.
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