Beth saw that her aunt and the three cousins looked merrily excited, that there was some sort of new and delightful secret known to all but herself. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be delighted to go, sir,” said Beth. “When?” “As soon as breakfast is over and the mail disposed of,” said her Uncle Jim. “Did you ever see my stable?” “I didn’t know you had one, here; I suppose I would have known you must have one in the country. I’d love to see it--if there are horses in it,” said Beth. “A stable without horses would be rather worse than a horse without a stable in New York,” said Uncle Jim. “We’ll visit mine after breakfast.” “What kind of a dress do you put on to visit city stables, Aunt Alida?” asked Beth seriously when they left the table. Aunt Alida laughed. “Frieda has a costume for you that came home last night; you are to wear that,” she said. “Don’t be alarmed when you see it about looking conspicuous in the street. We shall go to the stable in the car, though it isn’t far.” Beth silently went away, returning her aunt’s significant smile with a puzzled but affectionate one. She found Frieda awaiting her in her room. On the chair before the dressing table lay, of all things, a trig, diminutive riding habit of dark blue, skirt, short coat, knowing little hard hat, gauntlet gloves and all, while across the end of another table lay a silver-mounted riding stock. There was no mistaking the size of these garments, for whom they were intended, yet Beth stopped short and gasped, as she so often did at the succession of wonders she was encountering daily. “Oh, Frieda! Oh, Frieda, for me?” she cried. Then she had a second thought, a prevention of possible disappointment. “Do they wear riding habits in New York just to visit stables?” she asked. “No, Miss Beth, I don’t think they do,” replied Frieda, trying not to smile. “I think your uncle wishes you to ride. Miss Natalie, Miss Alys and Master Dirk ride, you know.” “Indeed I did know it, Frieda!” cried Beth. “If I might ride--but you can’t, if you don’t know how, can you? And I’m sure there isn’t room to learn here.” “There are riding academies, Miss Beth. You can learn here much better than you can anywhere else, because here’d be first-class teachers,” said Frieda, ready to defend the city that had adopted her. “I think, if you please, Miss Beth, you had better make a little haste. They want to start quite soon.” “You’ll have to do more even than usual to me, Frieda; I don’t know one bit how to get ready in a riding habit,” said Beth.