The moment breakfast was over, Mrs. Livingstone went in quest of Caesar, whom she abused for disobeying her orders, threatening him with the calaboose, and anything else which came to her mind.  Old Caesar was taken by surprise, and being rather slow of speech, was trying to think of something to say, when John Jr., who had followed his mother, came to his aid, saying that “he himself had sent Bill for Fleetfoot,” and adding aside to his mother, that “the next time she and Cad were plotting mischief he’d advise them to see who was in the back parlor!”

Always ready to suspect ’Lena of evil, Mrs. Livingstone immediately supposed it was she who had listened; but before she could frame a reply, John Jr. walked off, leaving her undecided whether to cowhide Caesar, ’Lena, or her son, the first of whom, taking advantage of the pause followed the example of his young master and stole away.  The tramp of horses’ feet was now heard, and Mrs. Livingstone, mentally resolving that Fleetfoot should be sold, repaired to the door in time to see Durward carefully lift ’Lena from her pony and place her upon the ground.  Mrs. Graham, Carrie, and Annie were all standing upon the piazza, and as ’Lena came up the walk, her eyes sparkling and her bright face glowing with exercise, Anna exclaimed, “Isn’t she beautiful?” at the same time asking her “where she had been.”

“To Woodlawn,” answered ’Lena.

“To Woodlawn!” repeated Mrs. Graham.

“To Woodlawn!” echoed Mrs. Livingstone, while Carrie brought up the rear by exclaiming, “To Woodlawn! pray what took you there?”

“The pony,” answered ’Lena, as she passed into the house.

Thinking it best to put Mrs. Graham on her guard, Mrs. Livingstone said to her, in a low tone, “I would advise you to keep an eye upon your son, if he is at all susceptible, for there is no bound to ’Lena’s ambition.”

Mrs. Graham made no direct reply, but the flashing of her little gray eye was a sufficient answer, and satisfied with the result of her caution, Mrs. Livingstone reentered the house.  Two hours afterward, the carriage stood at the door waiting to convey the party to Woodlawn.  It had been arranged that Mrs. Graham, Carrie, Anna, and Durward should ride in the carriage, while Mr. Graham went on horseback.  Purposely, Carrie loitered behind her companions, who being first, of course took the back seat, leaving her the privilege of riding by the side of Durward.  This was exactly what she wanted, and leaning back on her elbow, she complacently awaited his coming.  But how was she chagrined, when, in his stead, appeared Mr. Graham, who sprang into the carriage and took a seat beside her; saying to his wife’s look of inquiry, that as John Jr. had concluded to go, Durward preferred riding on horseback with him, adding, in his usually polite way, “And I, you know, would always rather go with the ladies.  But where is Miss Rivers?” he continued.  “Why isn’t she here?”