cosmetics of any sort were by most considered inventions of the devil. It
took extraordinary firmness of character even to protect one's self against
sunburn by anything more artificial than the shadow of a hat or a parasol.
Then she assumed a fascinating little round hat that fitted well down over
her small head. This, innocent of pins, was held on by an elastic at the
back. A ribbon, hanging down directly in front, could be utilized to steady
it in a breeze.

"All ready," she announced, picking up a tiny parasol, about big enough for
a modern doll. "You may carry my mantle."

Near the foot of the veranda steps waited Sam at the heads of a pair of
beautiful, slim, satiny horses. Their bay coats had been groomed until they
rippled and sparkled with every movement of the muscles beneath. Wide red-
lined nostrils softly expanded and contracted with a restrained eagerness;
and soft eyes rolled in the direction of the Sherwoods--keen, lithe,
nervous, high-strung creatures, gently stamping little hoofs, impatiently
tossing dainty heads, but nevertheless making no movement that would stir
the vehicle that stood "cramped" at the steps. Their harness carried no
blinders; their tails, undocked, swept the ground; but their heads were
pulled into the air by the old stupid overhead check reins until their
noses pointed almost straight ahead. It gave them rather a haughty air.

Sherwood stepped in first, took the reins in one hand, and offered his
other hand to his wife. Sam instantly left the horses' heads to hold a
wicker contrivance against the arc of the wheels. This was to protect
skirts from dusty tires. Mrs. Sherwood settled as gracefully to her place
as a butterfly on its flower. Sam snatched away the wicker guards. Sherwood
spoke to the horses. With a purring little snort they moved smoothly away.
The gossamerlike wheels threw the light from their swift spokes. Sam, half