for a while we may show
you how to ride. We would be glad to do anything for Aunt Sallie's
guest." Jack's tones were sweetly innocent, but Jean snickered.

Laura Post bit her lips angrily. "Teach Laura to ride?" her mother
protested indignantly. "Why my daughter has been trained in the best New
York riding academies. I am afraid they would not care for your Western
riding in Central Park."

Jean did not see how in the world Jacqueline could appear so undisturbed
by the vision of elegance which confronted them. Laura was dressed in a
soft cream flannel skirt and coat with a pale blue blouse and wore a big
felt hat with a blue pompon on it, to shade her delicate
peaches-and-cream skin. Jean felt Laura's eyes fasten on the long rent
in her riding skirt, which Jack had mended, with such an expression of
superior amusement that she wanted to pull her hair or to scratch her,
or to do something else that was violent.

Laura Post was a very pretty girl, all daintiness and fluffiness. She
had very light curly hair and blue eyes, and she looked as though she
had never done anything for herself in her life. Her mother was just
like her, only a more faded and dressed-up edition. Jean did not know
why they both made her feel so awkward, as though it were dreadfully
inelegant to have one's skin tanned and hair blown by a long, glorious
ride across the open country.

Mrs. Post and Laura would not go when Mrs. Simpson came out and sat down
by the ranch girls, holding Jean's hand in one of hers and Jack's in the
other, and wondering why Jean, who was her favorite of the three ranch
girls, looked so hot and uncomfortable.

"The first thing for you to do, Jacqueline Ralston, is to bring this
Indian girl over here for me to take a look at her," Mrs. Simpson
announced at the end of Jack's story. "I was going to send a note over
to you this very afternoon. I want you children to come over to spend a
few days with us. I would like Laura to have some real Western parties
and good times, and I think the best way is to have you stay right here
with us. There isn't any other way to manage with you young people so
far from one another, so bring your Indian girl to our house party. I
confess I am curious to see her."

"You are awfully good, Mrs. Simpson, but I am afraid we can't come,"
Jack answered gratefully. In spite of the fact that Laura and her
mother were both staring at her, Jack went on: "You see we have not the
right clothes to sta