tressed--"

"That was right; that was very right. You have shown--that is, you may
depend on me, young lady. May I cut this bud for you? It is a perfect
one, if I may say so. Perhaps you will look closer at it, Miss; (Miss
Rita is observing you from the balcony, and you would not wish)--there,
Miss. I shall bring some cut flowers into the dining-room later, for
arrangement, as you ask. Good morning, Miss."

Margaret returned to the house, half relieved, half bewildered. John
Strong was certainly a remarkable person. She did not understand his
position here, which seemed far removed from that of a domestic, but
after all, it was none of her business. And even if he did speak of
Peggy by her first name, was it Margaret's place to reprove him? He was
almost old enough to be Peggy's grandfather.

Rita had apparently forgotten the storm of the day before. She was in
high good humour, and greeted Margaret with effusion.

"Just in time, Marguerite. Where have you been? We have called till we
are hoarse. Look at us; we go to ride. We are to have an exhibition of
skill, on the back of the white beast. Behold our costumes, found in the
garret."

Margaret looked, and laughed and admired. Rita was dressed in a long
black velvet riding-habit, with gold buttons, a regal garment in its
time, but now somewhat rubbed and worn; a tall hat of antique form
perched upon her heavy braids, and she looked very businesslike. Peggy
had found no such splendour, but had put on a scarlet military coat over
her own bicycle skirt. "Finery is good," she said, "but not on
horseback." A three-cornered hat, with the mouldering remains of a
feather, completed her costume, and she announced herself as the
gentleman of the party.

"Rita was saying what a pity it was there were no boys here, and I told
her I ought to have been a boy, and I would do my best now," said Peggy
good-naturedly. Rita made a little grimace, as if this were not the
kind of boy she desired, but she nodded kindly at Peggy, and said she
was "fine."

"And you, Marguerite? How will you appear? Will you find a cap and
spectacles, and come as our grandmother? That would approve itself,
_n'est-ce-pas_?" It was laughingly said, but the sting was there,
nevertheless, and was meant to be felt.

"Oh, I should delay you," replied Margaret. "Let me come as I am, and be
ringmaster, or audience, or whatever you like. I never rode in my life,
you know." Peggy opened wide her eyes, Rita curl