“I reckon I will,” said John, shaking down his tight pants, and pulling at his long coat sleeves.  “I never want anybody round when I’m with Nellie Douglass.”

So saying, he walked off, leaving Durward and ’Lena alone.  That neither of them felt at all sorry, was proved by the length of time which they remained together, for when more than an hour afterward Mrs. Graham proposed to Carrie to take a turn in the garden, she found the young couple still in the arbor, so wholly engrossed that they neither saw nor heard her until she stood before them.

’Lena was an excellent horsewoman, and Durward had just proposed a ride early the next morning, when his mother, forcing down her wrath, laid her hand on his shoulder, and as if the proposition had come from ’Lena instead of her son, she said, “No, no, Miss Rivers, Durward can’t go—­he has got to drive me over to Woodlawn, together with Carrie and Anna, whom I have asked to accompany me; so you see ’twill be impossible for him to ride with you.”

“Unless she goes with us,” interrupted Durward.  “You would like to visit Woodlawn, would you not, Miss Rivers?”

“Oh, very much,” was ’Lena’s reply, while Mrs. Graham continued, “I am sorry I cannot extend my invitation to Miss Rivers, but our carriage will be full, and I cannot endure to be crowded.”

“It has carried six many a time,” said Durward, “and if she will go, I will take you on my lap, or anywhere.”

Of course ’Lena declined—­he knew she would—­and determined not to be outwitted by his mother, whose aim he saw, he continued, “I shan’t release you from your engagement to ride with me.  We will start early and get back before mother is up, so our excursion will in no way interfere with my driving her to Woodlawn after breakfast.”

Mrs. Graham was too polite to raise any further objection, but resolving not to leave them to finish their tete-a-tete, she threw herself upon one of the seats, and commenced talking to her son, while Carrie, burning with jealousy and vexation, started for the house, where she laid her grievances before her mother, who, equally enraged, declared her intention of “hereafter watching the vixen pretty closely.”

“And she’s going to ride with him to-morrow morning, you say.  Well, I fancy I can prevent that.”

“How?” asked Carrie, eagerly, and her mother replied, “You know she always rides Fleetfoot, which now, with the other horses, is in the Grattan woods, two miles away.  Of course she’ll order Caesar to bring him up to the stable, but I shall countermand that order, bidding him say nothing to her about it.  He dare not disobey me, and when in the morning she asks for the pony, he can tell her just how it is.”

“Capital! capital!” exclaimed Carrie, never suspecting that there had been a listener, even John Jr., who all the while was sitting in the back parlor.

“Whew!” thought the young man.  “Plotting, are they?  Well, I’ll see how good I am at counterplotting.”