There was no one in the town, perhaps, who did not know of Miss Prue's
abhorrence of horse racing. On all occasions she freed her mind
concerning it; and there was a report that the only lover of her youth
had lost his suit through his passion for driving fast horses. Even the
county fair Miss Prue had refused all her life to attend--there was the
horse racing. It was because of all this that she had been so loath to
buy a horse, if only the way to everywhere had not grown so long!
For four weeks--indeed, for five--the new horse, Ann, was a treasure;
then, one day, Jupiter remembered.
Miss Prue was driving home from the post office. The wide, smooth road
led straight ahead under an arch of flaming gold and scarlet. The
October air was crisp and bracing, and unconsciously Miss Prue lifted
her chin and drew a long breath. Almost at once, however, she frowned.
From behind her had come the sound of a horse's hoofs, and reluctantly
Miss Prue pulled the right-hand rein.
Jupiter Ann quickened his gait perceptibly, and lifted his head. His
ears came erect.
"Whoa, Ann, whoa!" stammered Miss Prue nervously.
The hoof beats were almost abreast now, and hurriedly Miss Prue turned
her head. At once she gave the reins an angry jerk; in the other light
carriage sat Rupert Joyce, the young man who for weeks had been
unsuccessfully trying to find favor in her eyes because he had already
found it in the eyes of her ward and niece, Mary Belle.
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