The young wife tried to meet these trials pleasantly and patiently, but there were times when they seemed almost more than she could bear; for when she tried to please them most, they seemed to be the least satisfied. One day they culminated in a radical assumption of authority on the part of Evelyn. She had been bitterly envious of Salome from the first, not only on account of her exceeding beauty, but because of the lavish hand with which her brother showered favors upon her. She especially envied her the possession of her elegant coupé and handsome ponies, and upon this particular morning she insisted that she was afraid to ride after her brother’s more spirited and powerful horses, and so ordered the ponies to be harnessed into the barouche for her use. Salome’s face grew blank as she listened to this cool command, for she well knew that such an arrangement would never do. She was saved the disagreeable duty of objecting, however, by Dick, who said: “The ponies ben’t strong enough for the barouche, marm; they’d never drag it a mile over the pavements without being winded.” “You’ll do as I tell you,” the young lady retorted imperiously. Dick looked confused but doggedly determined, scratched his head, and glanced inquiringly at Salome. She disliked to oppose Evelyn, and yet she knew that her beautiful ponies would be ruined if they were made to draw that heavy vehicle, and Miss Winthrop was not remarkably careful of horseflesh at any time. “Right is right,” she said to herself, after thinking a moment, and she made up her mind that the little bays should not be overtaxed. “I think Dick is right, Evelyn,” she said gently. “I am afraid the ponies will be injured. Suppose you take the coupé instead; you are quite welcome to it, and, if you dislike riding in a close carriage, you can lower the windows.” “Nonsense! the ponies are strong enough—it’s only the man’s stubbornness,” retorted the girl irritably, although she knew that she was wrong. She had not thought of the barouche being too heavy for the horses when she gave the order; her only aim had been to assert herself and overreach Salome. “Oh, no, you are mistaken; Dick is never stubborn—he is always very willing to oblige,” Salome answered pleasantly, and bestowing a kind glance upon the man. Then she added, with a decision that settled the contested point at once, “Dick, if you please, you may put the ponies in the coupé for Miss Winthrop.” “Yes, marm,” and with a respectful nod the man disappeared to do her bidding, but muttering, as he got out of hearing, something about the “toppin ways of high-toned upstarts.”