“It is just what my papa taught me to do,” remarked Evelyn modestly.

“Would you children all like to take a drive with me this afternoon?” asked the captain.

There was a simultaneous and joyful assent from his own three:  then Evelyn said, “Thank you, sir.  I should like it extremely, if I can get permission.  Aunt Elsie expects me home to dinner; but I will go now to the telephone, and ask if I may stay and accept your invitation.”

“And while you are doing that, I will go to my wife, and try to persuade her to join our party,” the captain said, leaving the room.

Evelyn had no difficulty in gaining permission to stay at Ion for the rest of the day, or go anywhere Capt.  Raymond might propose to take her; and he found but little difficulty in persuading Violet to accompany him in a drive that would take her from her baby for an hour or two, the little one being so much better that she did not fear to leave it in charge of her mother and the nurse, thinking it might die before her return.

“The carriage will be at the door in ten or fifteen minutes after we leave the dinner-table,” the captain told them all; and each one promised to be ready to start at once.

The children all came down the stairs and out upon the veranda together, and only a little in advance of the captain and Violet.

There was a simultaneous exclamation of surprise as they saw, not the Ion family carriage, but a new and very handsome one, with a pair of fine match-horses, which none of them had ever seen before, drawn up at the foot of the veranda-steps, while, a few feet beyond, a servant held the bridle of a beautiful, spirited pony, whose long mane, gracefully arched neck, and glossy coat, struck them all with admiration.

The carriage-horses were no less handsome or spirited:  they were tossing their manes, and pawing the ground, with impatience to be off.

Violet turned a bright, inquiring look upon her husband, while all three of his children were asking in eager, excited tones, “Papa, papa, whose carriage and horses are these?”

“Ours,” he said, handing Violet to a seat in the vehicle; then, as he helped Evelyn in, “Max, my son, if you will ride that pony, there will be more room here for the rest of us.”

“O papa! may I?” cried the boy in tones of delight.  “Did you hire it for me?”

“No:  I only bought it for you.  Mount, and let me see how well you can manage him—­how well you have improved your opportunities for learning to ride.”

Max needed no second invitation, but had vaulted into the saddle before his father was done speaking.

“Now put him through his paces,” was the next order.

Max wheeled about, dashed down the avenue at a rapid gallop, turned, and came back at an easy canter; his father and sisters, Violet also, watching him in proud delight, he was so handsome, and sat his pony so well.