“Oh, no, Miss,” said the groom, who heard her.  “That was only a romp for him.  He’ll be much easier to handle now.”

He gave Grace a hand to help her mount to the saddle, and adjusted the stirrups for her.

“Good-bye!” she called, as she cantered off.  “Save some of the chocolates for me,” and the others laughingly promised, as they went back to the shade, to rest in the hammock or lawn chairs.

CHAPTER III

 The runaway

Grace cantered along the pleasant country road on the back of Prince.  The noble animal had lost some of his fiery eagerness to cover the whole earth in one jump, and now was mindful of snaffle and curb, the latter of which Grace always applied with gentle hand.  Prince seemed to know this, for he behaved in such style as not to need the cruel gripping, which so many horsemen—­ and horsewomen too, for that matter, needlessly inflict.

“Oh, but it is glorious to ride!” exclaimed the girl, as she urged the animal into a gallop on a soft stretch of road beneath wonderful trees that interlaced their branches overhead.  “Glorious—­ glorious!”

“I hope those papers are not so valuable that it would be an object for—­ for some one to try to take them away from me,” she mused.  Instinctively she glanced behind her, but the peaceful road was deserted save for the sunshine and shadows playing tag in the dust.  Then Grace looked above.  The sky was of rather a somber tint, that seemed to suggest a storm to come, and there was a sultriness and a silence, with so little wind that it might indicate a coming disturbance of the elements to restore the balance that now seemed so much on one side.

“But if any one tries to get them away from us, we—­ we’ll just—­ run away; won’t we, Prince?” and she patted the neck of the horse.  Prince whinnied acquiescence.

“Grandmother will be surprised to see me,” thought Grace, as she rode on.  “But I’m glad I can do as well as Will in business matters.  I hope papa won’t be too severe with Will for not attending to this himself.”

She passed a drinking trough—­ a great log hollowed out, into which poured a stream of limpid water coming from a distant hill through a rude wooden pipe.  It dripped over the mossy green sides of the trough, and Prince stretched his muzzle eagerly toward it.

“Of course you shall have a drink!” exclaimed Grace, as she let him have his head.  Then she felt thirsty herself, and looked about for something that would serve as a mounting block, in case she got down.  She saw nothing near; but a ragged, barefooted, freckled-faced and snub-nosed urchin, coming along just then, divined her desire.

“Want a drink, lady?” he asked, smiling.

“Yes,” answered Grace, “but I have no cup.”

“I kin make ye one.”

Straightway he fashioned a natural flagon from a leaf of the wild grape vine that grew nearby, piercing the leaf with its own stem so that it formed a cup out of which a Druid might have quaffed ambrosia.