She made reply with sarcasm which she knew would particularly irritate her Aunt Ella, and left the house feeling that she never wanted to enter it again as long as she lived.
The sight of her uncle standing beside Pard in an attitude of disgusted appraisement of the new Navajo blanket and the silver-trimmed bridle and tapideros which Burns had persuaded her to add to her riding outfit,--for photographic effect,--brought a hot flush of resentment.
She went up quietly enough, however.

Indeed, she went up so quietly that he started when she appeared almost beside him and picked up Pard's reins, and took the stirrup to mount and ride away.

She did not speak to him at all; she had not spoken to him since that night when the little brown bird had died! Though perhaps that was because she had managed to keep out of his way.
"I see you've been staking yourself to a new bridle," Carl began in a tone quite as sour as his look.

"You must have bought out all the tin decorations they had in stock, didn't you ?" Jean swung up into the saddle before she looked at him.

"If I did, it's my own affair," she retorted.