“Come here, my dear,” said one of the two pretty women, “and sit down beside me. Miss Stanton,” she went on to Livingstone, “very kindly tried to teach Reggie how to ride Hermione, and we are glad to have the chance to thank her.”
“I don’t understand at all,” said Livingstone. “But there are so many things that I shall never understand that one more makes no difference.”
Angelica’s self-confidence began to come back.
“Why, he was riding Lady Washington with a whip,” she explained. “And I just called out to him not to. You remember Lady Washington,—she was a four-year-old when you were at the Pines,—and you know you never could touch her with a whip.”
“I remember very well,” said Livingstone. “You flattered me by offering to let me ride her, an offer which, I think, I declined. When did you sell her?”
“Two years ago,” said Angelica.
Then the other young woman spoke. “But how did you recognize the horse?” she asked. “You haven’t seen it for two years.”
“Recognize her!” exclaimed Angelica. “I guess if you had ever owned Lady Washington you would have recognized her. I broke her as a two-year-old, and schooled her myself. Jim says she’s the best mare we ever had.” Angelica looked at the woman pityingly. She was sweet-looking and had beautiful clothes, but she was evidently a goose.
“Miss Stanton won the high jump with the mare,” Livingstone remarked, “at their hunt show down in Virginia.”
“It was only six feet,” said the girl, “but she can do better than that. Jim wouldn’t let me ride her at anything bigger.”