"I have no habit; and Ila says that they intend to have riding parties."
"You can get one habit. Go up to-morrow and order one."
Magdaléna felt a little dazed, and wondered if everything in her life were changing.
"I hear wheels," she said after a moment. They were on the verandah on the right of the house. She stood up and watched the bend of the drive. "It is the Montgomery char-à-banc," she said, "and there are Mrs. Cartright and Tiny and Ila and Rose. Shall you stay?"
"I stay. Bring them here to me. Tiny and Ila beautiful girls. Great Scott! they know what they are about. Rose very pretty, too."
The char-à-banc drew up; and as its occupants did not alight, Magdaléna went down and stood beside it, shading her eyes with her hand.
"We have come to take you for a drive to the hills, 'Léna dear," said Tiny. "Do come."
"Papa has a bad cold. I cannot leave—"
"Poor dear Don Roberto!" exclaimed Mrs. Cartright. "I will get out this minute and speak to him. I know so many remedies for a cold,—blackberry brandy, or currant wine, or inhaling burnt linen and drinking hot water—" But she was halfway down the verandah by this time.
"Do you remember the last time we went to the hills?" asked Ila. "Helena and Rose shrieked with such hilarity that the horses bolted."