Mr. Leffington Feels Inspired 



in somewhat sarcastically, turning up her nose 

 ever so slightly. "Besides he can't ride any 

 better than you can." 



Mr. Leffington smiled, pleased in spite of him- 

 self, at his wife's partisanship, and ignored the 

 first part of her remark completely. 



"Do you remember, Margaret, the time the 

 hounds killed in Bagby's barnyard. That was 

 where John first met Gwen, two years ago 

 last Thanksgiving; she followed him over the 

 barnyard fence, a mere five feet or so — as 

 you happen to know. The rest came in by 

 the gate, — which was the proper way of course, 

 — but you should have seen how John looked 

 at Gwen when he lifted her out of the saddle, 

 and the way her eyes never left his. That 

 was love at first sight all right. Damned 

 shame I say, whatever the trouble is." And Mr. 

 Leffington having delivered himself of this unusual 

 bit of sentimentalism to the astonishment of his 

 wife, took the letter she held out to him for mail- 

 ing and left the room. Once he paused in the hall 

 as if in doubt, started on, then paused again. 

 Finally with the determined air of one who screws 

 up his courage with, 'who's afraid, — not I', he 

 proceeded with firm tread out to the stable. He 

 had neglected to tell Mrs. Leffington that John 

 Rexford would be staying all the next week at the 

 101 



