"Isn't he a beauty, Arthur?" called Ruth, coming out on the piazza in all the glory of her dark-blue habit, high boots and gauntlet gloves.
Arthur, who had a pocketful of sugar and was dividing it impartially between the two horses, turned at the sound of the voice and gave her an approving glance.
"He certainly is," he answered, "and he's going to have a very swell-looking rider, too. I like that blue dress and that neat little hat."
"Glad you're suited," laughed Ruth. "He ought to have a name; do think up a nice name right off now so that I can have something to call him this afternoon."
"I like your way of ordering me to think up things on the moment," protested Arthur in an aggrieved tone.
"Of course you like it. Do think quick, because Uncle Henry is just ready to start."
"Peter Pan," suggested Arthur. "And then he'll never grow old and bony and lame."
"Clever boy," said Ruth approvingly as they started off. "That name suits me exactly. Can't you just see him doing a shadow dance with me on his back?"
Arthur watched them until a curve in the road hid them from sight. Then as he started toward the house a familiar voice hailed him, and he turned to see Dr. Holland looking at him with approving eyes.
"Pretty nice looking pair of riders, aren't they? Why don't you go in for that sort of thing, my boy?"