"What will you take for that little grey filly when she is broken ?" was a constant question.

"She's not for sale," her owner used to answer.

"I'll break her myself, and make her as gentle as a dog, and she'll do for my wife when I get one." But this proved a castle in the air, so far as Star was concerned.

The wife was not so mythical.

In due time _she_ appeared in that sheltered valley, and, standing at the head of a mound marked by a stake whereon a star was rudely carved, heard the story of the poor creature's fate.