Part 73 (2/2)
”I have so much to tell, I scarcely know where to begin. Do you know you are to escort me to a ball at Mrs. Steyne's next week? No? why, you know nothing; so much for sojourning in Amsterdam. Then I suppose you are ignorant of the fact that I have ordered the most delicious dress you ever beheld to grace the occasion and save myself from disgracing you.
And you are to be very proud of me, and to admire me immensely, or I shall never forgive you.”
”I am pretty certain not to deserve condign punishment on that score,”
fondly. ”Darling, can it be really true that we are together again, that all the late horrible hopelessness is at an end? Cecilia, if this should prove a dream, and I awoke now, it would kill me.”
”Nay, it is no dream,” softly. Turning up her perfect face, until the lips are close to his, she whispers, ”Kiss me, and be convinced.”
CHAPTER x.x.xII.
”How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature!”
--_Cymbeline._
”No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful I know, her spirits are as coy and wild As haggards of the rock.
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, Misprising what they look on.”
--_Much Ado About Nothing._
”Sir Guy,” says Miss Chesney, two days later, bursting into his private sanctum as ”the eve is declining,” in a rather stormy fas.h.i.+on, ”I must ask you to speak to your groom Buckley: he has been exceedingly rude to me.”
”Rude? Buckley?” exclaims Sir Guy, with a frown, throwing down the paper he has been trying to read in the fast growing gloom. It is dusk, but the red light of the fire flickers full upon his face, betraying the anger that is gathering there. A looker-on would have readily understood by it that Buckley's hours for grooming at Chetwoode are few.
”Yes. I told him to have Saracen saddled for me to-morrow morning, as the meet is at Ryston, and I expect a good run; and he said he should not do it without your permission, or orders, or something equally impertinent.”
”Saracen!” returns Chetwoode, aghast, losing sight of Buckley's miserable behavior, or rather condoning it on the spot; ”you don't mean to tell me that for one moment you dreamed of riding Saracen?”
”Certainly I did. And why not?” preparing for battle.
”Because the idea is simply absurd. You could not possibly ride him. He is not half trained.”
”Archibald rode him last week, and says he is perfect, and quite safe. I have decided on trying him to-morrow.”
”I wish Chesney would not put such thoughts into your head. He is _not_ safe, and he has never been ridden by a woman.”
”That is just why I fancy him: I have often before now ridden horses that had never had a lady on their backs until I rode them. And to-morrow I feel sure will be a good day, besides being probably my last meet for the season.”
”My dear child, I think it would indeed be your last meet were you to ride that brute: his temper is thoroughly uncertain.”
”You told me a few days ago my hand could make any horse's mouth, and now----”
”I told you then what I tell you again now, that you are one of the best woman riders I ever saw. But for all that, you would find it impossible to manage Saracen.”
”You refuse him to me, then?” with an ominous gleam in her eyes.
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