"A worthless lot," she muttered; "I'm going to clean 'em all out some
day and try the Irish"; but Mrs. Sally Owen had often made this threat
without having the slightest intention of carrying it into effect.

Professor Kelton had just reached the house, and he seemed so hot and
tired that Sylvia was struck with pity for him. He insisted, however,
that he was perfectly well, but admitted that his errands had proved to
be more vexatious than he had expected.

"What kind of a time have you been having?" he asked as they went
upstairs together.

"Oh, the finest in the world! I'm sure I've learned a lot to-day--a
great many things I never dreamed about before."

"Horses?"

"I never knew before that there was anything to know about horses; but
Mrs. Owen knows all about them. And that team we drove behind is
wonderful; they move together perfectly and go like lightning when you
want them to."

"Well, I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself. You'd better put on your white
dress,--you brought one, didn't you? There will be company at dinner."

"Don't you scare that child about company, Andrew," said Mrs. Owen,
coming up behind them with the linen duster flung over her arm. "If you
haven't any white dress, Sylvia, that blue one's perfectly good and
proper."