Roberta came up to her sister-in-law from behind and put both arms about her.  “Stephen came and whispered in my ear to-night,” said she, “and wanted to know if I had ever seen Rosy look sweeter.  I said I had—­an hour before.  He asked what you had on, and I said, ’A gray kimono—­and the baby on her arm.’  He smiled and nodded—­and I saw the look in his eyes.”

“Rob, you’re the dearest sister a girl ever had given to her,” Rosamond answered, returning the embrace.

“And yet you two say I don’t care for colour schemes,” Roberta reminded her as she returned to her hair-brushing.  “I care enough for them to want them made up of colours that will wash—­warranted not to fade—­that will stand sun and rain and only grow the more beautiful!”

“What are you talking about now, dear?” laughed Rosamond happily, still thinking of what Stephen had said to Roberta.

CHAPTER V

RICHARD PRICKS HIS FINGERS

Hoofbeats on the driveway outside the window!  Beside the window stood the desk at which Richard was accustomed to work at Judge Gray’s dictation.  And at the desk on this most alluring of all alluring Indian-summer days in middle November sat a young man with every drop of blood in his vigorous body shouting to him to drop his work and rush out, demanding:  “Take me with you!”

For there, walking their horses along the driveway from the distant stables, were three figures on horseback.  There was one with sunny hair—­Ruth—­her brown habit the colour of the pretty mare she rode; one with russet-gaitered legs astride of the little Arabian pony called Sheik—­Ted; one, all in dark, beautifully tailored green, with a soft gray hat pulled over masses of dusky hair, her face—­Richard could see her face now as the horses drew nearer—­all gay and eager for the ride—­Roberta.

Judge Gray, his glance following his companion’s, looked out also.  He rose and came and stood behind Richard at the window and tapped upon the pane, waving his hand as the riders looked up.  Instantly all three faces lighted with happy recognition and acknowledgment.  Ruth waved and nodded.  Ted pulled off his cap and swung it.  Roberta gave a quick military salute, her gray-gauntleted hand at her hat brim.

Richard smiled with the Judge at the charming sight, and sighed with the next breath.  What a fool he had been to tie himself down to this desk when other people were riding into the country!  Yet—­if he hadn’t been tied to that desk he would neither have known nor cared who rode out from the old Gray stables, or where they went.

The Judge caught the slight escaping breath and smiled again as the riders passed out of sight.  “It makes you wish for the open country, doesn’t it?” said he.  “I don’t blame you.  I should have gone with the young folks myself if I had been ten years younger.  It is a fine day, isn’t it?  I’ve been so absorbed I hadn’t observed.  Suppose we stop work at three and let ourselves out into God’s outdoors?  Not a bad idea, eh?”