“Oh, never mind,” said Peg cheerfully, “we won the jumps anyway. And Joseph was a regular deer in the racing.”
“Wasn’t he?” exclaimed Paul, restored to good humour by the remembrance of his pinto’s achievements at the picnic, where he won premier honours from the field.
“And, Paul, you were good to me,” said Peg shyly when they came to the bars.
“Oh, shucks, Peg!” said Paul, greatly pleased.
“You were, Paul. And that Adelina is just a bold thing.”
“Oh, she isn’t half bad. Rides awfully well.”
“Yes, she does,” acknowledged Peg, “but she has a wonderful pony. And don’t you think that cap she wore was awfully funny?”
“Why! that’s a regular jockey’s cap, she told me.”
“Jockey cap! For a girl!” Peg’s finer sensibilities were obviously offended. She, however, skilfully and lightly turned from distressing and disturbing subjects of conversation to one in which she was more deeply concerned.
“But, Paul, you have never been over at our house once this summer,” she said reproachfully, “and you used to come every week at least.”