Henceforward she had few happier hours than those in which Carl and she went riding into the country together. Sometimes they would not start till Carl had done his morning’s work, and on these days they would soberly jog out fifteen miles or so, probably in the direction of Killearn, alighting there at an inn for a dish of steak and onions better than any other steak and onions in the world. At other times they would wait until the later afternoon and go simply for a gallop in the fields about Milngavie. But Joanna liked it best on a Saturday: for then they could start very early, posting through the dark and misty autumn dawns, and pushing their way up through sopping little woods to high ground that they might canter forward to meet the rising sun. And it was after these rides that they went in just as they were, glowing and bespattered with mud and dew, to Sangsters with what Carl called “a hunter’s breakfast” – porridge with cream, kidneys and bacon, toast and “baps” and “special” coffee, with a bottle of Graves to stand by. They were really merry these hunters’ breakfasts. Though a table was kept apart for the riders, they always took possession of the place (half empty at that hour) with their rollicking spirits, and the waitresses seemed to participate. Carl had a ringing laugh that made the other late breakfasters or early lunchers turn their heads.

So it was that tales went round, and one day Eva Gedge reported the affair to Juley in such a manner that Juley unwillingly felt it laid upon her to remonstrate with Joanna. We ought, said she, to “avoid the appearance of evil.” She herself “knew her children too well to listen for a moment to foolish gossip,” but “dear Joanna must remember that she was still young and a widow, and it had pleased God to give her good looks beyond the average.” At this most rare parental allusion to outward appearances Joanna stared. But she only kissed her mother with reassuring affection and went on her way.

The stables from which they hired their horses had been private at one time to a family mansion. This still stood at some distance, (the stables being on the outskirts of the grounds at a far corner) empty these several years and now waiting, blackly and squarely forlorn, for its demolition. But for some reason its surrounding gardens had been kept carefully tended: and especially before the early morning rides, when the grass and bushes were still grey with dew, Joanna keenly enjoyed the short cut which might be made by passing diagonally across the sloping lawns and shrubberies.

It was on one of these mornings that a new element was added to her pleasure in riding.