It was not thought inconsistent with Susy's capriciousness that she
should declare her intention the next morning of driving her pony buggy
to Santa Inez to anticipate the stage-coach and fetch Mary Rogers from
the station. Mrs. Peyton, as usual, supported the young lady's whim and
opposed her husband's objections.

"Because the stage-coach happens to pass our gate, John, it is no reason
why Susy shouldn't drive her friend from Santa Inez if she prefers it.
It's only seven miles, and you can send Pedro to follow her on horseback
to see that she comes to no harm."

"But that isn't Pedro's business," said Peyton.

"He ought to be proud of the privilege," returned the lady, with a toss
of her head.

Peyton smiled grimly, but yielded; and when the stage-coach drew up the
next afternoon at the Santa Inez Hotel, Susy was already waiting in her
pony carriage before it. Although the susceptible driver, expressman,
and passengers generally, charmed with this golden-haired vision,
would have gladly protracted the meeting of the two young friends, the
transfer of Mary Rogers from the coach to the carriage was effected with
considerable hauteur and youthful dignity by Susy. Even Mary Rogers,
two years Susy's senior, a serious brunette, whose good-humor did not,
however, impair her capacity for sentiment, was impressed and even
embarrassed by her demeanor; but only for a moment. When they had driven
from the hotel and were fairly hidden again in the dust of the outlying
plain, with the discreet Pedro hovering in the distance, Susy dropped
the reins, and, grasping her companion's arm, gasped, in tones of
dramatic intensity:--