"In a minute."

"No. I won't wait another second."

With this the girl flung herself from the room, wearing a very determined
expression on her flushed face.

Ridge rose to follow her, and then resumed his occupation as a clatter of
hoofs on the magnolia-bordered driveway announced the arrival of a
horseman.

"She won't go now that she has a caller to entertain," he said to himself.

But in this he was mistaken; for within a minute another clatter of
hoofs, mingled with the sound of laughing voices, gave notice of a
departure, and, glancing from an open window, Ridge saw Spence Cuthbert
ride gayly past in company with a young man whose face seemed familiar,
but whose name he could not recall.

As they swept by both looked up laughing, while the horseman lifted his
hat in a bow that was almost too sweeping to be polite.

"What did you say Ridge was doing?" he asked, as they passed beyond
earshot.

"Arranging a bowl of roses," answered Spence.

"Nice occupation for a man," sneered the other. "And he preferred doing
that to riding with you?"