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Blanco's face fell and he looked at Posco, a dread little thought wavering on his mind. Was it Posco who had asked her to go riding with him? And the way the two of them had looked at each other, smiling. He suddenly felt jealousy surge up within him as he looked at his brother. So that was why Lily would rarely look at him. She loved Posco! It was an absurd notion, he realized in the furthest reaches of his mind. Lily had only just met Posco and if she cared for him that way at all she was only just falling in love. But Blanco did not care for this intelligence. He hated Posco suddenly with a fierce hatred, but swelling up to match that hatred was his natural good-natured personality and his love for his twin. Feeling dizzy suddenly, he excused himself and slipped away to battle with his feelings alone.
Posco barely noticed the absence of his brother, for he had fallen into anticipating the ride on the morrow. He would have to go to his aunt's house to fetch his pony, but perhaps Lily would accompany him. No. His face darkened a bit. He would not wish her to meet his aunt. His aunt would speak sharply to her and give those scornful, disapproving looks. "Lily," he said, turning to her, "my pony is at my aunt's house and I wondered if you would mind waiting here tomorrow morning for me to come back. I... I don't think you'd like my aunt very much." He hurried on without looking at her. "What do you say to leaving tomorrow after breakfast?"
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