"Won't you and Miss Howland be seated, Mrs. Harold; I am sure you must be hungry after your ride through this October air. We will have some refreshments and then go out to the paddock to see Silver Star."

Touching a little silver bell, which was promptly answered by Jerome, she ordered:

"Something extra nice for my guests, Jerome, and please send word to Shelby that we will be out to the paddock in half an hour."

"Yes, missie, lamb, I gwine bring yo' a dish fitten f o' a queen."

Mrs. Harold dropped into one of the big East India porch chairs, saying:

"This is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Polly, dear, look at the wonderful reds of those wings contrasted with the foliage back of them. Why have we never known of Severndale? Have you lived here long, Miss Stewart?"

"Would you mind calling me just Peggy? Miss Stewart makes me feel so old and grown-up," said Peggy unaffectedly.

Mrs. Harold smiled approvingly and Polly cried:

"Yes, doesn't it? I hate to be called Miss Howland. I'm not, anyway, for I have an older sister. Have you, too?"

"No," answered Peggy. "I have no one in the world but Daddy Neil, and he is away nearly all the time. I wish he were not. I miss him terribly. He spent August with me and I have never before missed him as I do this time. I have always lived here, Mrs. Harold. I was born here," she concluded in reply to Mrs. Harold's question.

"But your companions?" Mrs. Harold could not refrain from asking.

Peggy smiled.

"That was Daddy Neil's deepest concern during his last visit. He had not thought much about it before, I guess. I dare say you will think it odd, but my companions are mostly four-footed ones, though I am--what shall I call it? Guarded? chaperoned? cared for? by Harrison, Mammy Lucy and Jerome, with my legal guardian, Dr. Llewellyn to keep me within bounds.

I dare say most people would consider it very unusual, but I am very happy and never lonely. Yes, Jerome, set the tray here, please," she ended as the butler returned bearing a large silver tray laden with a beautiful silver chocolate service, egg-sh.e.l.l cups straight from j.a.pan, a plate of the most delicate, flaky biscuits, divided, b.u.t.tered and steaming, flanked by another plate piled high with little scalloped- edged nut cakes, just fresh from Aunt Cynthia's oven.

Taking her seat beside the table Peggy poured and Jerome served in his most dignified manner, while Mrs. Harold marveled more and more and Polly thought she had never in all her life seen a girl quite like Peggy.

"It is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen," said Mrs.

Harold.

"I am glad you like it, for I love it. Few people know of it. I mean few who come to Annapolis. I have lived here so quietly since Mamma's death when I was six years old. Daddy comes whenever he can, but he has asked for sea duty since Mamma left us. He has missed her so."

"In which cla.s.s did your father graduate, Miss Peggy!"

"In 18--, Mrs. Harold."

"Why then he must have been in the Academy when Mr. Harold was there. He graduated two years later. I wonder if they knew each other. Mr. Harold would have been a youngster, and your father a first-cla.s.sman, and first-cla.s.smen HAVE been known to notice youngsters."

Peggy looked puzzled. Although she had always lived within ten miles of the Academy, she had never entered its gates, and knew nothing of its ways or rules. Polly was wiser, having spent a month with her aunt. She laughed as she explained:

"A first-cla.s.sman is a lordly being who is generally at odds with a second-cla.s.sman, but inclined to protect a third-cla.s.sman, or youngster, simply because the second-cla.s.sman is inclined to make life a burden for him, just as he in turn is ready to torment the life out of a fourth- cla.s.sman, or plebe. I am just beginning to understand it. It seemed perfectly ridiculous at first, but I guess some of those boys are the better for the running they get. I've only been here since the first of October, but I've learned a whole lot in four weeks. Maybe you will come over to see us some time and you will understand better then."

"I'd love to, I am sure. But may I offer you something more? No? Then perhaps we would better go down to the paddock."

They stepped from the piazza and walked through the beautifully kept garden. On either side late autumn flowers were blooming, the box hedges were a deep, waxen green, and gave forth a rich, aromatic odor. Polly cried:

"I just can't believe that you--you--why that you are the mistress of all this. I don't believe you can be one bit older than I am."

"I was fourteen last January," answered Peggy simply.

"And I fifteen last August," cried Polly with the frankness of her years.

"Then you are exactly five months older than I am, aren't you?" Peggy's smile was wonderfully winning.

"And when I look at all this and hear you talk I feel just about five YEARS YOUNGER," was Polly's frank reply. "Why I've never done a single thing in my life.''

"Not one?" asked Mrs. Harold, smiling significantly.

"Oh well, nothing like all THIS," protested Polly.

They had now reached a large inclosure. At the further end were a number of low buildings, evidently stables. Nearer at hand, outside the inclosure, were larger buildings--barns and offices. The inclosure was still soft and green in its carpeting of turf and patches of clover.

Eight or ten horses were running at large, free and halterless. Further on was another inclosure in which several brood mares were grazing quietly or frisking about with, their colts. Some had come to the high paling to gaze inquiringly at the strangers.

"Oh, Tanta, Tanta, just look at them," cried Polly in a rapture. "And which is to be mine?"

"None of those spindle-legs yonder," was Peggy's amused answer. "They will be running at large for a long time yet. I don't even begin training them until they are a year old--at least not in anything but loving and obeying me. But most of them learn that very quickly. You must look in this paddock for Silver Star, Miss Polly. Shall I call him?"

"Will he really come?" asked Polly incredulously.

For answer Peggy slipped into the paddock, saying as she shot back the bolt:

"We used to have a much simpler fastening, but they learned how to undo it and make their escape. For that reason we are obliged to have these high fences. They have a strain of hunter blood and a six-foot barrier doesn't mean much to some of them."

How bonny the girl looked as she stood there. The horses which were in a little group near the buildings at the opposite end of the paddock, raised their heads inquiringly. The girl gave a long, clear whistle which was instantly answered by a chorus of loud neighs, as the group broke into a mad gallop and bore down upon her. It seemed to Mrs. Harold and Polly as though the on-rushing creatures must bear her down, but just when the speed was the maddest, when heads were tossing most wildly, and tails and manes waving like banners, Peggy cried:

"Halt! Steady, my beauties!" and as one the beautiful animals came to a standstill their hoofs stirring up a cloud of dust, so suddenly did they brace their forefeet. The next second they were crowding around her, nuzzling her hair, her shoulders, her hands, evidently begging in silent eloquence for some expected dainty.

Peggy carried a small linen bag. She opened it and instantly the air was filled with the soft, bubbling whinny with which a horse begs.

"Quiet, Meteor. Be patient, Don. Wait, Queen. Oh, Shashai, will you never learn manners?" she cried as her pet stretched his long neck and catching the little bag in his teeth s.n.a.t.c.hed it from her hands, then, with all the delight of a child who has played a clever trick, away he dashed across the paddock.

"Shashai! Shashai, how dare you! Halt!" she called after him, but the graceful creature had no idea of halting.

For a moment Peggy looked at her guests very much as a baffled schoolmistress might look in the event of her pupil's open defiance, then cried:

"This will never, never do. If he disobeys me once I shall never be able to do anything with him again. Please excuse me a moment. I must catch him."

"Are you in the habit of chasing whirlwinds?" asked Mrs. Harold laughing.

"You must be able to run faster than most people," laughed Polly, but even as she spoke Peggy cried:

"Star! Star! Come." And out from the group slipped a superb chestnut. He came close to the girl, slipping his beautiful head across her shoulder and nestling against her face with the affection of a child. She clasped her arm up around the satiny neck and said softly:

"We must catch Shashai, Star," then turning like a flash, she rested one hand lightly upon his withers, gave a quick spring and sat astride the horse's back.

Polly gave a little cry and clasped her hands, her eyes sparkling with delight at this marvelous equestrian feat. Mrs. Harold was too amazed to speak.