He understood then a little better of all that he must be to her,
since, as he turned to her (his head full of hawks, and the glory of the
shouting wind, and every thought of Faith and father clean blown away),
it was to her mind that the under-thought had leapt, that here was their
first, and perhaps their last, chance of speaking in private.
It was indeed their last chance, for the sun already stood over
Chapel-le-Frith far away to the south-west; and they must begin their
circle to return, in which the ladies should fly their merlins after
larks, and there was no hope henceforth for Robin. Henceforth she rode
with Mrs. Fenton and two or three more, while the gentlemen who loved
sport more than courtesy, turned to the left over the broken ground to
work back once more after partridges. And Robin dared no more ride with
his love, for fear that his company all day with her should be marked.
* * * * *
It was within an hour of sunset that Robin, riding ahead, having lost a
hawk and his hat, having fallen into a bog-hole, being one mask of mud
from head to foot, slid from his horse into Dick's hands and demanded if
the ladies were back.
"Yes, sir; they are back half an hour ago. They are in the parlour."
Robin knew better. "I shall be riding in ten minutes," he said; "give
the mare a mouthful."
He limped across the court, and looking behind him to see if any saw,
and finding the court at that instant empty, ran up, as well as he
could, the stone staircase that rose from the outside to the chapel
door.
Pages:
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79