“Let me give the horse to you, Miss Thurston,” he urged. “It will give me the greatest pleasure, if you will allow it. He ought to belong to you for the pretty piece of riding you did out in the field. Let me congratulate you. Beauty’s compliments and mine to the young girl who has been her own riding teacher.”
A warm wave of color swept over Barbara’s face. “I did not mean you to overhear me, Mr. Morton,” she declared. “Forgive me. Of course I couldn’t accept your horse. But I do appreciate your kindness. Thank you for lending me Beauty to ride.”
Bab took her roses from Mr. Heller and made her way to Miss Stuart.
“Child!” protested Miss Sallie, “sit down! I shall ask your mother never to let you ride a horse again unless you promise never to try to jump over another fence rail. Oh, what I went through, when I thought you were about to fall off that horse!” Miss Stuart raised both hands in horror. “There ought to be a law against riding masters being allowed to teach women to jump over hurdles.”
“But the law wouldn’t act against Bab, auntie,” declared Ruth, who was feeling very vain over Bab’s success. “Because, you know, Barbara never took a riding lesson in her life.”
In a short time Miss Stuart took her party home.
Ralph and Hugh were to return to New Haven on the night train.
“Miss Sallie,” begged Mollie, as they made their way through the crowd, “there is Mr. Winthrop Latham. Do ask him to come to tea with you to-morrow.”
“But why, my child?” Miss Sallie naturally inquired.
“Please, ask just him, not his nephew, Reginald. Do, Aunt Sallie, dear. I can’t tell you why, now, but I shall explain as soon as we get home.”