He had made his unheeding way past the house to the
beginning of the avenue of trees, which he remembered
from the previous evening's drive. To his right, an open
space of roadway led off in the direction of the stables.
As he hesitated, in momentary doubt which course to take,
the sound of hoofs in the avenue caught his ear,
and he stood still. In a moment there came into view,
round a curve in the leafy distance, two horses with riders,
advancing at a brisk canter. Soon he perceived that the
riders were ladies; they drew rein as they approached him,
and then it was to be seen that they were the pair he had
judged to be such close friends last night--Lady Cressage
and the daughter of the house.
They smiled and nodded down at him, as he lifted his
cap and bowed. Their cheeks were glowing and their
eyes sparkling with the exhilaration of their ride.
Even the Hon. Winifred looked comely and distinguished
in his eyes, under the charm of this heightened vivacity.
She seemed to carry herself better in the saddle than she
did out of it; the sweep of her habit below the stirrup
lent dignity to her figure.
But her companion, whose big chestnut mount was pacing slowly
toward the stepping-block--how should he bring within the
compass of thought the impressions he had had of her as she
passed? There seemed to have been no memory in his mind
to prepare him for the beauty of the picture she had made.
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