“This way,” said Nora. She seized hold of the horn of the saddle, put her foot into the stirrup and sprang upon Polly's back. “Oh, there's where the pants come in,” she added as her dress caught on to the rear of the saddle. “Now up you go. Make up your mind you are going to DO it, not going to TRY.”
A look of serious determination came into Jane's face, a look that her friends would have recognised as the precursor of a resolute and determined attempt to achieve the thing in hand. She seized the horn of the saddle, put her foot into the stirrup and “stepped on.”
The riding lesson was an unqualified success, though for some reason, known only to herself, Polly signalised the event by promptly running away immediately her head was turned homeward, and coming back down the lane at a thundering gallop.
“Hello!” cried Nora, running out to meet them. “Why, Jane, you have been fooling us all along. You needn't tell me this is your first ride.”
“My very first,” said Jane, “but I hope not my last.”
“But, my dear,” said Mrs. Gwynne, who had also come out to see the return, “you are doing famously.”
“Am I?” cried Jane, her face aglow and her eyes shining. “I think it is splendid. Shall we ride again to-day, Larry?”
“Right away after breakfast and all day long if you like. You are a born horsewoman, Jane.”
“Weren't you afraid when Polly ran off with you like that?” inquired Nora.
“Afraid? I didn't know there was any danger. Was there any?” inquired Jane.