She was thinking this all over, while shaking the creases from her
lately-packed clothes, brushing the walking skirt, in which she had
traveled to North Birchland, and generally putting her things in
order, when Mrs. White, gowned for the street, entered the room.

"My dear," she began, "I am afraid you will lose the out-door joy of
this delightful morning. Why not slip into your riding habit, and take
a run on Cricket? He would be so glad to do it himself, poor pony! The
boys are so busy with their camping that they forget a young horse
wants some fun too."

"I should be glad to, Auntie, but I feel I must get my things
straightened out. The night I was packing up, the girls cut up so I
had to hurry everything into my boxes in all shapes," replied Dorothy.
"But I will take a canter as soon as I have finished," and she
gathered up the pieces of broken crockery that had remained in her
box after the "fall of China," as Tavia designated the accident to
her tea set. "How lovely you do look, Aunt Winnie," exclaimed the
girl, gazing with sincere admiration at the superb figure in rose
broadcloth. "I do believe you have grown taller!"

"It's the style of this gown, my dear. These lines affect the Venus
length. Ned declared when he first saw me in this that I was put
together in sections--couldn't possibly be all in one piece," and she
laughed in the deep, velvety tone that, perhaps, more than anything
else about her interesting personality, proclaimed her the woman of
unmistakable culture.

When she was gone, and Dorothy looked out into the inviting sunlight,