There was her work. She had discovered that Louis took an odd pride in her capacity to earn any money whatsoever. Accordingly she set herself to earn more, and soon with her fashion plates, and an evening class for teachers which she took twice a week at the School of Art she was making from £5 to £10 a month. This had the added advantage of bringing London nearer. Not that she had started saving as yet for that end. To Juley’s grief all her daughter’s money went, with an increasing extravagance of ideas, on self adornment. Nothing at this time was too good for Joanna, and she became noticeably elegant in her dress. Poor Juley had long and desperate confabulations with Eva Gedge over the child’s growing worldly-mindedness.

ΙII

A happier thing came when Carl Nilsson one day suggested that Joanna should go riding with him. In her immediate joyful agreement she certainly had Louis again in mind, but she had also in mind her beloved rough-coated pony of the Duntarvie days. The idea in itself, that is, was congenial. Here was something far better worth spending one’s money upon than anything to be had in the shops. And extravagance in clothing one’s body appeared suddenly as a bore and a vulgarity to be dropped with Linnet’s friends.

And after a few lessons in the great brown-befogged riding school which smelt of tan and ammonia, and echoed like a bath with raised voices and the thud of hoofs, Joanna became a good enough horse-woman. As she hastened to the mounting place her heart would flutter in her breast with delight. Her shining face on horseback often made Nilsson look at her with his sidelong, inquisitive gaze that was yet all friendliness, but when she asked him what was wrong he would only smile, praise her seat, and watch her cheeks brighten still more.