Mr. Rutledge shook his head; Madge was only fit for an experienced rider; she was too full of spirit for such a child to manage. Now, Madge had been my secret admiration ever since I had had the entrée of the stables, and I felt that life offered, at that moment, no more tempting honor than a seat on her back; and it may be supposed I was not lukewarm in my pleading. I urged, coaxed, entreated; I appealed to his generosity, I promised everlasting gratitude. "Dear Mr. Rutledge," I cried, "you know I go at my own risk; it will be my own fault if anything happens to me. And oh! it will be _so_ unkind if you refuse me the very first favor I ever asked of you!" I am not sure about the tears at this point of the petition, though I was quite in earnest enough to have cried, and I had begun to appreciate the availability of tears as a weapon sufficiently to have used them if they had occurred. Certain it is, however, that Mr. Rutledge began to relent, and at last, though evidently much against his better judgment, gave the desired permission. "But remember, I don't approve it." "Oh! but you will," I exclaimed, "when you see how quiet she'll be with me!" "And you have no habit," he continued. "I'll manage that. Kitty's a host in herself; I'll press her into the service." My companion half sighed as I flew out of the room and upstairs, where, in two minutes' time, I was deep in consultation with Kitty on the subject of the habit. She entered into the plan with great ardor, and racked her brains to devise something feasible. I sat on the bed and waited breathlessly for the bright thought that I was sure would come, sooner or later, to Kitty's clever brain. "You say you have a jacket that will do," she said, meditatively. "Yes, the very thing--black cloth, trimmed with buttons and all that; and now, if I only had a long enough skirt. Oh, Kitty! can't you think of something?" Kitty knit her brows, and, after a moment, said, thoughtfully: "There's a whole piece of black bombazine, that was left over from the last funeral, upstairs in a trunk I know of. Sylvie and I could run up the breadths in no time. Would you mind?" "Oh, Kitty! I couldn't quite stand that!" I exclaimed, between a shudder and a laugh. "Can't you think of anything else?" "I have it!" cried she, with a sudden illumination of countenance. "I have it!" "What!--how? Oh, do tell me!" "Why," said my artful maid, with mischief in every line of her bright face, "why, Mrs. Roberts, by way of keeping me busy this morning, gave me her best bombazine dress to rub off and press out, and it's downstairs this minute; and you see, she always has a wide hem to her dresses, and a great piece turned in at the top; so by letting out all this, and putting on a piece around the waist, where it'll come under the basque, it will make you the very nicest riding-skirt in the world." And Kitty's eyes danced. "Capital!" I cried. "But then, Kitty, I'm afraid it wouldn't be right; I'm afraid"----