Her flanks quivered.

"It is no use," I cried, patting her, as she turned to me with appealing eyes that asked for water.

"She CAN'T go back as far as Salisbury; at least, till she has had a feed of corn and a drink.
Even then, it will be rough on her." "Give her bread," Hilda suggested.

"That will hearten her more than corn.

There is plenty in the house; Tant Mettie baked this morning." I crept in reluctantly to fetch it.