She sat in front with Uncle Charley, and he let her drive part of the way, for it was Patty's great delight to drive two horses, and she had already become a fairly accomplished little horsewoman.
"Fred tells me he's going to get horses for you this spring," said Uncle Charley.

"You'll enjoy them a lot, won't you, Patty ?" "Yes, indeed--that is--I don't know whether we'll have them or not." For it just occurred to Patty that, having run her father into such unexpected expense in the household, a good way to economise would be to give up all hopes of horses.
"Oh, yes, you'll have them all right," said Uncle Charley, in his gay, cheery way, having no idea, of course, what was in Patty's mind.

"And you must have a little pony and cart of your own.

It would give you a great deal of pleasure to go out driving in the spring weather." "I just guess it would," said Patty, "and I'm sure I hope I'll have it." She began to wonder if she couldn't find some other way to economise rather than on the horses, for she certainly did love to drive.
Promptly at six o'clock Uncle Charley left her at Boxley Hall, and as she entered the door Patty felt that strange sinking of the heart that always accompanies the resuming of a half-forgotten mental burden.
"I know just how thieves and defaulters and forgers feel," she said to herself, as she took off her wraps.

"I haven't exactly stolen, but I've betrayed a trust, and that's just as bad.