One thing delighted his soul. Late in the year Madame added a riding academy to her school; or engaged one for certain afternoons of each week. Here the sharpshooter knew his darling would shine, and she did.
Yet her success seemed for a time but to increase the unfriendliness of the “Con” side of the school. The riding classes had been added by the solicitation of Helen Rhinelander, already a fine horsewoman, who, during her summer vacations had sometimes “ridden to hounds” with some fashionable house-party. She loved riding beyond all other exercise, and had been early taught. She looked for no rival in the matter; but the very first day, when Jessica had been admitted to the lesson, she saw that she might be equalled, or even eclipsed.
“That girl rides as if she were part of her horse. The master gave her that fractious brute of his own, as soon as she begged for it, thinking that the easiest way to take down her self-conceit; and meaning, of course, to keep close beside her in case of a fall. Fall? The animal couldn’t shake her off. He tried, forward and backward, sidewise and every other wise, but she stuck like a burr. The master was amazed. Soon he let go the bridle and only watched—to be ready for accident. After that he watched from sheer delight; and as soon as she had made the circuit of the ring a few times and had brought her mount down to a quiet pacing, he said: ‘Miss Trent, I must congratulate you. I have nothing to teach you.’
“Then Jessica was afraid he wouldn’t let her stay in the class, and asked him; and, of course, he said he was only too proud of the honor. Then he questioned her and found out that she had been put on a horse’s back before she was out of baby-clothes and had to be held there, while the horse was led around; and afterward—‘Well, afterward, I don’t remember much except a horse, or sometimes a burro. One has to ride in California, it’s so big, and wide, and places are so far apart; and, oh! yes! I forgot! I can ride an ostrich, too. King Zulu was the first one in America who was ever mounted, so the “boys” claim. He is more fun even than the swiftest horse; he’s faster, you know.’
“Fancy, Madame Mearsom, that girl talking away like that to our reserved master! But he liked it. He liked it so well, he even said: ‘I thought I had a magnificent horsewoman in Miss Rhinelander, but Miss Trent, I fear she will have to yield the palm to you.’”
“O Rosalie! I’m sorry he said that,” answered Madame, to whom Miss Thorne had given the above description. “I’ve heard about this division in the school—our rival favorites; and though I have seemed to ignore it, it has grieved me deeply. Helen is charming, but for some unknown reason she appears to have taken a dislike to Jessica. I am very, very sorry. There should be no rivalry or jealousy between those two. They are not of the same age, they differ in all respects—I mean are so unlike one another—they ought to be the best of friends. Do what you can, dear Rosalie, to bridge this difference. I wish something would happen to settle the matter!”
Something was to happen; but the anxious schoolmistress could not foresee that it would be in the nature of a tragedy.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE SOMETHING WHICH HAPPENED.
To solace her daughter for her chagrin in being outclassed by Jessica, Mrs. Rhinelander gave her a new horse; as handsome a creature as could be found and “warranted kind and true.”