"Jeanette, I want to congratulate you. The youngest girl in the racing contest and the winner! We are proud of you."
Jeanette bit her lips and her color faded.
She could not confess.
All her life she had been taught the rules of the game. This had been her father's chief effort in bringing up his four motherless daughters. In whatever they undertook, a game of croquet, tennis, a guessing contest indoors, the importance of the game was not what counted. One must always and at all times play fair.
Until to-day Jeanette believed this as sacredly as her father.
Two months before would she have stood silent while Peter Stevens pinned upon the lapel of her riding coat the prize offered by the club to its best woman rider? The pin was of sapphires set in silver, the Indian emblem, the Swastika, the emblem of good luck, inherited from our primitive ancestors, which has gone round the world.
CHAPTER IX
FACE TO FACE
Curiously Jeanette slept peacefully all night, untroubled by dreams. She was tired out and glad the race was over. More than she had imagined, her mind and heart had been set upon the one thought for weeks.
Moreover, she felt sure of what must soon take place.