"
"Put the saddle on one of the quiet livery horses, and you ride this
brute," said the doctor.
"You don't know her. She wouldn't stand that at all."
"Then give her her head. After yesterday I believe she can do what
she undertakes. You have tired the horse out pretty thoroughly, and I
guess she'll manage him."
Leaving orders to have Madge's horse sponged off and dried, and the
best animal in the stable prepared for himself, he said, "Well then,
doctor, be on hand to repair damages," and went to his room to change
his dress.
The doctor did more. He saw that Madge's horse was saddled carefully,
meanwhile admiring the beautiful equipment that Graydon had ordered.
He also insured that Graydon had a good mount.
When at last the young man tapped at Madge's door she came out looking
most beautiful in her close-fitting habit and low beaver, with its
drooping feather. Mary followed her, protesting and half crying, and
Mr. Muir looked very grave.
"Madge," said Graydon, earnestly, "I should never forgive myself if
any harm came to you. That horse is not fit for you to ride."
"Good people, see here," said Madge, turning upon them; "I am not a
reckless child, nor am I making a rash experiment.
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