day, to the exclusion of the other
Amazons, who took refuge in chanting derogatory remarks, such as:

"Herbie Hunter is stuck on Isabelle!"

When 5:30 arrived and with it, Miss Watts, Isabelle departed with a
feeling of a day well spent. She turned her thoughts to the next event.
They had a puncture on the way, and the terrace and halls were deserted
when they arrived home. Miss Watts hurried her off to the schoolroom,
for supper, and urged her to take her bath and go to bed after her
strenuous day. The child was docility itself.

While she was at supper a note was brought to her. It was from
Christiansen. She read:

MY DEAR ISABELLE:
You cannot imagine what a pleasant welcome your note gave me. I
am thrilled to know that I am under the roof with a real Amazon,
and I live in the expectation of seeing you "strong and true in
riding breeches."
Your devoted admirer,
MARTIN CHRISTIANSEN.

An idea was born at that moment! When Miss Watts went to carry the
supper tray downstairs, because the maids were busy, Isabelle hastily
donned her riding clothes, turned on the bath water to mislead Miss
Watts on her return, crept down the stairs and out. From the terrace she
peered into the long drawing room. The French doors leading on to the
terrace were open wide, and in the softly lighted room she saw the
house-party guests assembling. They straggled in, one by one. Isabelle's
eyes brightened at Christiansen's big boom of laughter, and she admired
his broad shoulders, as he leaned on the mantelpiece at the far end.

She flew to the stables, crept in at the back, led out the Peruvian
horse, saddled, mounted him, and kicked him gently in the flanks. Up and
onto the terrace she guided him, just as indoors, Matthews arrived with
the cocktails.

In through the open windows rode Isabelle, and slowly down the long
drawing room. Everybody gasped.

"Isabelle Bryce!" cried her mother.

"Martin," she said eagerly, "this is how I look as an Amazon!"

It was part of the cruel fate that dogged her, that at this supreme
moment the Peruvian horse slipped on a rug on which Matthews happened to
be standing, whereupon they all went down together, pouring a generous
libation of cocktails at Christiansen's feet!

CHAPTER NINE

Poor Isabelle languished in disgrace in her own room for the two days