In the sudden emotions which had caused her to act almost exactly as Dora had acted, Miriam had entirely forgotten her resentment toward her companion.

“Why can’t you stay?” she asked.  “We have plenty of room, you know.”

The man of business shook his head.

“Thank you very much,” he replied, “but I must be in my office this evening.  I think I shall be obliged to borrow your gig.  I will walk over to the field—­”

“Oh, you need not take the trouble to do that,” said Miriam.  “They are way over there at the end of the meadow beyond the hill.  The gig is here in the barn, and I can lend it to you just as well as he can.”

“You are very kind,” said Herbert, “and I will accept your amendment.  It will be the better plan, because if I saw your brother, I should certainly interfere with his work.  He might insist upon coming to help me, which is not at all necessary.  Where can I find the gig, Miss Haverley?”

Miriam led her visitors to the second floor.

“There it is,” she said, “but of course you must have the harness belonging to it, for your buggy harness will not hold up the shafts properly.  It is in the harness room, but I do not know which it is.  There is a lot of harness there, but it is mostly old and worn out.”

“I will go and look,” said Herbert.  “I think it is only part of it that I shall need.”

During this conversation Dora had said nothing.  Now as she stood by the old gig, toppling forward with its shafts resting upon the floor, she thought she had never seen such a horrible, antediluvian old trap in her life.  Nothing could add so much to her disappointment in going so soon, as going in that thing.  If there had been anything to say which might prevent her brother from carrying out his intention, she would have said it, but so far there had been nothing.

She followed the others into the harness room, and as her eyes glanced around the walls, they rested upon a saddle hanging on its peg.  Instantly she thought of something to say.

“Herbert,” she remarked, not too earnestly, “I think we shall be putting our friends to a great inconvenience by borrowing the gig.  You will never be able to find the right harness and put it on so that there will not be an accident on the road, and Mr. Haverley or the man will have to be sent for.  And, besides, there will be the trouble of getting the gig back again.  Now, don’t you think it will be a great deal better for you to put that saddle on the horse, and ride him home, and then send the carriage for me?  That would be very simple, and no trouble at all.”

Mr. Bannister turned his admiring eyes upon his sister.

“I declare, Dora,” he said, “that is a good practical suggestion.  If Miss Haverley will allow me, I will borrow the saddle and the bridle and ride home; I shall like that.”

“Of course you are welcome to the saddle, if you wish it,” said Miriam; “but you need not send for your sister.  Why can’t she stay with me to-night?  I think it would be splendid to have a girl spend the night with me.  Perhaps I oughtn’t to call you a girl, Miss Bannister.”