So Max ordered the two ponies to be in readiness; and, as soon as breakfast was over, Lulu hastened to her room to prepare for her ride.

But in the mean time Mr. Dinsmore had told Rosie he had, for some reason, changed his plans, and should wait till afternoon to make his call at Roselands.

Then Rosie, glancing from the window, and seeing her pony at the door, ready saddled and bridled, suddenly decided to take a ride, ran to her room, donned riding hat and habit, and was down again a little in advance of Lulu.

Max, who was on the veranda, waiting for his sister, felt rather dismayed at sight of Rosie, as she came tripping out in riding-attire.

“O Rosie! excuse me,” he said.  “I heard you say you were going to drive to Roselands with your grandpa, and so, as I was sure you wouldn’t be wanting your pony, I ordered him saddled for Lu.”

“That happened very well, because he is here now all ready for me,” returned Rosie, laughing, as she vaulted into the saddle, hardly giving Max a chance to help her.  “Lu can have him another time.  Come, will you go with me?”

For an instant Max hesitated.  He did not like to refuse Rosie’s request, as she was not allowed to go alone outside the grounds, yet was equally averse to seem to desert Lu.

“But,” he thought, “she’s sure to be in a passion when she finds this out, and I can’t bear to see it.”

So he sprang upon his waiting steed; and as Lulu, ready dressed for her ride, and eager to take it, stepped out upon the veranda, she just caught a glimpse of the two horses and their riders disappearing down the avenue.

She turned white with anger at the sight, and stamped her foot in fury, exclaiming between her clinched teeth, “It’s the meanest trick I ever saw!”

There were several servants standing near, one of them little Elsie’s nurse, an old negress, Aunt Dinah, who, having lived in the family for more than twenty years, felt herself privileged to speak her mind upon occasion, particularly to its younger members.

“Now, Miss Lu,” she said, “dat’s not de propah way fo’ you to talk ‘bout dis t’ing; kase dat pony b’longs to Miss Rosie, an’ co’se she hab de right to ride him befo’ anybody else.”

“You’ve no call to put in your word, and I’m not going to be lectured and reproved by a servant!” retorted Lulu passionately; and turning quickly away, she strode to the head of the short flight of steps leading down into the avenue, and stood there leaning against a pillar, with her back toward the other occupants of the veranda.  Her left arm was round the pillar, and in her right hand she held her little riding-whip.

She was angry at Dinah, furiously angry at Rosie; and when the next minute something—­Rosie’s dog, she supposed—­tugged at her skirts, she gave a vicious backward kick without turning her head.

Instantly a sound of something falling, accompanied by a faint, frightened little cry, and chorus of shrieks of dismay from older voices flashed upon her the terrible knowledge that she had sent her baby sister rolling down the steps to the hard gravel-walk below.