rd to detect any very marked
resemblance. Nevertheless, both Jane and her Mother gazed upon their
handiwork with deep satisfaction.

"If Annie will only stay through the summer," sighed Mrs. Morton, "she
is doing so beautifully I'm afraid she is too good to last. But I
mustn't borrow trouble. If she deserts me, our guests will simply have
to turn in and help, much as I should dislike to have them."

Ernest came in to supper so excited he could scarcely eat. And Dr.
Morton seemed almost as interested as Ernest. They were both provokingly
mysterious during the entire meal, talking over Jane's head in a way
that was maddening.

"Does Mother know?" she demanded finally.

"Yes, Mother knows. I tell Mother when I go over to the Captain's."

"Come now, Ernest, that's been harped on enough," said Dr. Morton, then
turning to Jane, "If you will hurry and get into your riding habit, you
shall know the secret inside of an hour."

It is needless to say that Chicken Little hurried. The black
brilliantine skirt fairly flew over her head, the border of shot in its
hem rapping her rudely as it slid to the floor with a thud.

"Oh dear, I don't see why girls have to wear such long, silly skirts and
ride sidewise. It's so much easier to ride man fashion."

Chicken Little had been permitted to ride man fashion since she had been
on the ranch, for safety. But this year her Mother had decided she was
too big to be playing the boy any longer, and had made her a woman's
habit, in spite of the Doctor's protests. Jane was proud of the smart
basque with its long tails and glittering rows of steel buttons, but she
loathed the skirt.

Hastily fastening the black velvet band with its dangling jet fringe
below her stiff linen collar, she cast a parting glance at the oval
mirror and skurried down the stairs, not stopping for such small matters
as gloves or cap or even her beloved riding whip. Ordinarily, she would
not have budged without the whip. It had been a Christmas present from
Ernest and was her special pride. Her haste was in vain. After one look,
her Mother sent her back for cap and gloves. "I do not wish my daughter
riding around bareheaded like some half wild thing. I don't mind on the
ranch, but when you go abroad I wish you to look like a lady."

Jane reluctantly obeyed and did not forget the whip this time. She had a
fresh rebuff when she reached the road. Instead of the saddle horses she
expected to see, Dr. Morton and Ernest