Gray has come."
Not for one instant did I in my mind accuse my father of deceiving me.
My faith in him was as implicit as he well deserved that it should be.
Black might be white, two and two might make five, impossible things
might be possible, but my father could not be in the wrong. It was
evident that I must have misunderstood him last night. I looked very
crestfallen indeed.
My father, however, seemed particularly cheerful, even inclined to
laugh, I thought. He took my hand and we went to the front door, my
heart beating wildly, for I was a delicate unrobust lad yet, far too
easily upset and excited. More like a girl, in fact, if the comparison
be not an insult to such sturdy maids as Cousin Polly.
Outside we found a man-servant on a bay horse, holding a little white
pony, on which, I supposed, the little tutor had been riding. But he
himself was not to be seen. I tried hard to be manly and calm, and
being much struck by the appearance of the pony, who, when I came down
the steps, had turned towards me the gentlest and most intelligent of
faces, with a splendid long curly white forelock streaming down
between his kind dark eyes, I asked--
"Is that Mr.
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