“I suppose father and Dorothy have been persuading you to take part in the nonsensical side of our entertainment next week,” inquired Gwendolin. “I am trying to look after the riding. Do any of you ride horseback well enough to go in for the hurdle jumping? I warn you, you will find it difficult to win. Miss Warren is one of the best riders in New York. She has taken prizes at hurdle jumping before, at her riding school.”
Ruth declined. “I am afraid no one of us rides well enough to go in for this contest. I ride, of course, but I am not equal to the jumping.”
Ruth spied Barbara looking at her with longing eyes.
“I beg your pardon, Bab!” Ruth laughed. “I had no right to decline the hurdle jumping for all of us. Would you like to try?”
“Of course, I should like to try!” Barbara exclaimed. “But I know it is out of the question. I have no horse, and I haven’t a riding habit here.” Barbara turned shyly to the Ambassador. “I have never done any real hurdle jumping,” she explained. “But I have jumped over all kinds of fences riding through the country.”
The Ambassador smiled. “You need no better training for hurdle races,” he replied.
“If a horse is what you need,” cried Dorothy Morton, “why not use one from our stables. We have a number of riding horses. Do let me lend you one and enter the hurdle jumping contest. It is a dangerous amusement, however. I won’t try it.”
“Oh, I am not in the least afraid,” Bab declared. “Only, if I am left at the post, and can’t take a single hurdle, you must forgive me.”
“Well, you understand,” finished the Ambassador, “our amusements are only for our own friends.”
“Come here, Mollie,” called Miss Stuart, from her corner of the room, where she was seated near Mrs. Latham.