Glen nodded, drinking slowly, and fingering the dainty, pink and white, flowered material on which Mrs. Stillwater was working. He finally rose, restored the tin cup to the well, sauntered back and into the kitchen, and out again, with a disappointed expression.
"What's the matter, Glen? Lost anything?" inquired Mr. Stillwater, winking at the others.
Glen smiled. "Where's Indiana?"
"Oh, Indiana. She went off on Circus nearly three hours ago."
"Why didn't she stop for me?"
"I suppose she thought one's company, two's a crowd," answered Stillwater.
"You never know when Circus is going to cut up his games," remarked Glen, gloomily.
"Tell me about Circus now," said Mr. Stillwater scornfully, "don't I know Circus by this time?"
"Do you think anything could have happened?" asked Mrs. Stillwater in alarm.
"I've yet to see the horse that Indiana couldn't manage. I never saw two people understand each other better than she and Circus. He fretted and fumed when she jumped on his back this morning, then he did his great act. Stood right up on his hind legs, and looked around for applause. But she sat him like a rock. The two of them made the prettiest picture you ever saw. Well, she got him so, that he trotted off with her like Mary's little lamb. Indiana has a way with a horse."