Some days later--it was one of the still February mornings that come to Kentucky as an earnest that spring is on the way, with cardinals fluting from the evergreens and a rusty bluebird or two on the lookout for summer quarters--Joan was called to the telephone to speak to no less a personage than Miss Emily Carmichael. "I hear you've been riding all winter, Miss Darcy," she said. "I'm so sorry not to have known it before, so that we might have gone out together. So much pleasanter than riding with a groom, don't you think!" Joan agreed that it would have been. "Why shouldn't we make up for lost time at once--this morning, for instance? Shall I come by for you at eleven o'clock? Very well." Joan hung up the telephone, mortified by her own pusillanimous behavior. Here was a golden opportunity to snub the girl who had found her "mixed," and instead of doing so she had meekly consented to be patronized. But at the word her head went up with something of the Major's dignity. Miss Carmichael would find it rather difficult to patronize Miss Darcy! Miss Carmichael, however, seemed to have no intention of trying. She exclaimed with delight over the pretty Peggy, sleek as satin despite her winter coat, and dancing with pleasure to be out once more in equine society. (With the first approach of winter, the class in equestrianism had disbanded). "Mr. Blair was telling me the other day about your father's wonderful Christmas present to you," she said. "It must be pleasant to be able to afford a real saddle-horse! My good old Dobbin has to pull Mother's station-wagon, too, you know, which is bad for his gaits. It's _horrid_ to have only one horse in the stables!" "You speak as if you were poverty-stricken," smiled Joan, thinking of the great Carmichael house, with its walled court and double galleries and outbuildings sufficient to house a retinue of servants. "Oh, we are," sighed the other. "Absolutely! Why, do you know, I've never been to Europe in my life?" Joan wondered what this girl would think of real poverty, which yearned in terms, not of trips to Europe, but of new shoes and unattainable spring bonnets!--And then she happened to notice, standing at the curb as they passed, a girl of about her age with a shawl over her head, a baby on one arm and a child dragging at the other, gazing listlessly at the fortunate ones who had time to be young. Joan hastily abandoned comparisons. "If you've only one horse, what does your groom ride?" she asked, having been rather impressed by the mention of a groom.