He says the way to ruin a horse is
to have a lot of people ride him like Pat--they're just spoiling Dixy--"
"What! in four days? Nonsense."
"But," said the counsel in the case, "it's to be ten. It isn't about
John, it's Dixy's mouth, uncle."
"Oh, you darling little liar!" Here she kissed him and was silent. "It
won't do," he said. "There's no logic in a kiss, Miss Grey. First comes
Ann Grey and says, too much army discipline; and then you tell me what
that gossiping old darkey says, and then you try the final argument--a
kiss. Can't do it. There will be an end of all discipline. I hate
practical jokes. There!"
If he thought to finish the matter thus, he much undervalued the
ingenuity and persistency of the young Portia who was now conducting the
case.
"Suppose you take a chair, Miss Grey. It is rather warm to provide
permanent human seats for stout young women--"
"I'm not stout," said Leila with emphasis, accepting the hint by dropping
with coiled legs upon a cushion at his feet. "I'm not stout. I weigh one
hundred and thirty and a half pounds. And oh! isn't it hot. I haven't had
a swim for--oh, at least five days counting Sunday." The pool was kept
free until noon for Leila and her aunt.
"Why didn't you swim?" he asked lightly, being too intellectually busy
clearing his pipe to see where the leading counsel was conducting him.
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