ugh the field. Edna sat
like a little queen guiding her ponies, and distributing smiles and gay
speeches. Admiration and pleasure were as the breath of life to her; she
was at once peremptory and gracious; she looked down at her escort with
a sort of benign amusement. When Captain Grant handed her out of the low
chaise, she made her way through the ladies with the air of a princess.

A tall, high-colored woman, with dark hair, and dressed in rather bad
taste, held out her hand and welcomed her warmly.

"My dear, I am so glad to see you; Jem told me you were sure to come. Is
this Miss Lambert? Put those chairs closer, Jem. And so your mother
could not come. Never mind; I am used to chaperoning young ladies,
though I never had girls of my own."

Edna answered civilly, but Bessie soon perceived that Mrs. Grant's
conversation was not exactly to her taste. She spoke in a loud voice,
and as most of her remarks were about her boy Jem, as she called him,
his extraordinary cleverness and good luck at polo, and his merits as a
son and officer, it was extremely desirable that they should not be
overheard, but Mrs. Grant seemed quite indifferent to the amused looks
of the ladies round her, and her broad, good-natured face beamed with
smiles as Jem made a fine stroke and won the goal.

"He rides better than any of the men," she exclaimed proudly. "I'll back
my boy against any of them. Oh, look, Miss Sefton, Singleton has hit the
ball away--no, Jem is galloping after him, he means to carry it.
Yes--no--yes! they are through! Bravo, Jem, bravo!" and Mrs. Grant
clapped her hands excitedly.

In spite of her uneasiness, it was impossible for Bessie not to become
first interested and then absorbed in the game, and for a little while
she forgot all about The Grange. She had never seen polo played before,
and she was carried away by the excitement of that fascinating but
perilous game; the mad rush of the horses across the grass, the quick
strokes of the players, the magnificent riding, and the ease and grace
with which the officers guided their ponies and leaned over their
saddles to strike the ball; the breathless moment when young Singleton
rode alone with all the others pursuing him wildly; no wonder Bessie
felt enthralled by the novelty of the sight. She uttered a little scream
once when the horses and riders all crushed together in a sort of
confused melee.

"Is any one hurt?" she exclaimed in much distress; but Edna and Mrs.
G