GREEN DEVILS AND OLD MAIDS
By Emerson G. Taylor
Miss Herron guided the fat horses into the byroad with the manner of a navigating officer on the bridge of a liner. Not even after they were straightened out, and dropped their quickened gait to the usual comfortable trot, did she unclose her lips or take her gray eyes from her course.
“Is anything coming behind us, Lucy?” This to the young girl beside her.
“No, Cousin Agatha. He kept straight on.”
“You’re sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“Well, that’s a mercy.” For the first time she leaned back a little. “But I wonder that John Arnold so much as dreamed of trying to pass me.”
“You drive so splendidly,” replied the girl, drooping her pretty head so that the big white hat quite shaded her face. “The way you beat Mr. Arnold was fine. He looked so silly when we passed him. You’re so brave and—and skillful. It makes one feel so safe to be with you.”