It had been decided that after the summer holidays, she should become a member of the fashionable school which Isabelle and Marion attended.  In the meantime she was left almost entirely to her own devices.  Her uncle was away all day, Louis at College, and her aunt busy with social duties.  Her cousins had their own particular friends, who were not slow to vote the silent girl with the mournful grey eyes, full of dumb questioning, a bore; while Evadne, accustomed to being her father’s companion in all his scientific researches, found their vapid chatter wearisome in the extreme.

Horses were a passion with her, and she noted with pleased interest Pompey’s deft manipulations.  She stood for a long time in silence.  Pompey had saluted her respectfully then kept on steadily with his work.  Dexterously he swept the curry-comb over the shining coats and then drew it through the brush in his left hand with a curious vocal accompaniment, something between a long-drawn whistle and a sigh, and the horses laid their heads against his shoulder affectionately and looked wonderingly at the stranger out of their large, bright eyes.

“Did you really know my father?” she asked at length.

“Laws, yes, Missy!” and Pompey’s honest black face grew tender with sympathy.  “Mass Lennux stayed with the Jedge ’fore he went ter Barbadoes, an’ he spen’ powerful sight of his time out here wid me an’ de horses.  He wuz allers del’cut,—­warn’t able ter do nothin’ in this yere climate,—­but he bed sech a sperit!  He wouldn’t ever let folks know when he wuz a sufferin’.  He use ter call me ‘Pompous,’” and Pompey chuckled softly.  “He say when I git inter my fur coat I look as gran’ on de box as de Jedge do inside; an’ one day he braided de horses’ manes inter a hunderd tails an’ tied ’em wid yaller ribbun, ’cause he said de crimps wuz in de fashun an’ yaller wuz de Jedge’s ’lecshun color.  De Jedge wuz powerful angry.  He don’t like no sech tricks wid his horses.  But, laws, he couldn’t keep angry wid Mass Lennux!  He jes’ stood wid his hans on his sides an’ larf an’ larf, till de Jedge he hev ter larf too, an’ he call him a graceless scamp, an’ say he send him ter Coventry, an’ Mass Lennux he say ’all right ef de Jedge go ’long too, an’ take de horses, he couldn’t do widout dem nohow.’”

“Were these the horses my father used to ride?”

“Laws, no, Missy.  Dey wuz ez black ez night.  Mass Lennux use ter call ‘em Egyp an’ Erybus.”

Pompey’s face softened.

“When my leetle gal died he jes’ put his han’ on my shoulder an’ sez he,—­’Pompous, you jes’ go home an’ cheer up de Missis, yer don’t hev no call to worry ‘bout de horses.’  An’ he tuk care of dem jes’ as ef he’d ben a coachman.  We’ll never fergit it, Dyce an’ me.”

Evadne’s eyes shone.  That was just like her father!

“’Specs little Miss is powerful lonesum ’thout Mass Lennux?”

The soft voice was full of a genuine regret.  Evadne sank down on a bench which stood near by and burst into tears.