"Come on, Roy—and all other incorrigibles," laughed Polly, unsnapping her second rein and slipping it around Roy's silky neck. Roy loved and obeyed Polly almost as readily as Peggy, and cavorted off beside her as gay as a grig.
"We'll report heavy weather and a disabled ship, messmate," called Ralph.
"Report and hanged. You'll see us enter port all skee and ship-shape, and don't you fool yourself, my cock sure wife (Bancroft Hall slang for a room-mate), so so-long. Now come on, Peggy, and put me wise to navigating this craft, for it has me beat to a standstill."
"Go on, people; we'll follow presently and when we overhaul you you'll be treated to a demonstration of expert horsemanship," called Peggy after the laughing, joking group, her own and Jean's laughs merriest of all.
"Now get busy in earnest," she said to the half-piqued lad, whose face wore an expression of "do or die" as he again mounted his steed.
"You can just bet your last nickel I'm going to! Great Scott, do you think I'm going to let this beat me out, or that yelling mob out yonder see me put out of commission? Now fire away. Show me how to keep my legs clamped and to sit in the saddle instead of on this beast's left ear."
As Peggy was a skilled teacher and Jean an apt pupil the combination worked to perfection, and when in a half-hour's time they joined the main body of the cavalcade, Jean had at least learned where a saddle rests and had trained his legs to "clamp" successfully.
Meanwhile, back on Severndale's broad piazza Peggy was the subject of a livelier discussion than she would have believed possible, and the upshot of it was a decision which carried Neil Stewart, Mrs. Harold, herself, and Polly off to Washington early the following morning to visit a school of which Mrs. Harold knew. Mrs. Stewart was very courteously asked to accompany the party of four, which was to spend three or four days in the Capital, but Mrs. Stewart was distinctly chagrined at her failure to carry successfully to a finish the scheme which she felt she had so carefully thought out. Alas, she could not understand that she sorely lacked the most essential qualities for its success—unselfishness, disinterestedness, the finer feeling of the older woman for the younger, and all that goes to make womanhood and maternal instinct what they should be. She felt that her reign at Severndale was ended and nothing remained but to make as graceful a retreat as possible. So she declined the invitation, stating that she was very anxious to visit some friends in Baltimore and would take this opportunity to do so, going by a later train.
Neil Stewart did not press his invitation. He wanted Mrs. Harold and the girls to himself for a time and knowing that it would be his last opportunity to see them for many months, resolved to make the most of it. Not by word or act had he expressed disapproval of Mrs. Stewart's rather extraordinary line of conduct since her arrival at Severndale, though evidences of it were to be seen at every turn, and both Harrison's and Mammy's tongues were fairly quivering to describe in detail the experiences of the past month.
Harrison was wise enough not to criticise, but she lost no opportunity for asking if she were to carry out this, that, or some other order of Mrs. Stewart's, until poor Neil lost his temper and finally rumbled out: