bed, good-looking
young fellow about her own age. She danced with him and liked him, and
danced with him again, and he rode part of the way home with her. The
subject of the quarrel between the two homes came up gradually.

"The boss," said Robert, meaning his father, "the boss is always ready
to let bygones be bygones. It's a pity it couldn't be fixed up."

"Yes," said Mary, looking at him (Bob looked very well on horseback),
"it is a pity."

They met several times, and next Prince of Wales's birthday they rode
home from the races together. Both had good horses, and they happened
to be far ahead of the others on the wide, straight clear road that
ran between the walls of the scrub. Along, about dusk, they became very
confidential indeed--Mary had remarked what a sad and beautiful sunset
it was. The horses got confidential, too, and shouldered together, and
touched noses, and, after a long interval in the conversation, during
which Robert, for one, began to breathe quickly, he suddenly leaned
over, put his arm round her waist and made to kiss her. She jerked her
body away, threw up her whiphand, and Robert ducked instinctively; but
she brought her whip down on her horse's flank instead, and raced ahead.
Robert followed--or, rather, his horse did: he thought it was a race,
and took the bit in his teeth. Robert kept calling, appealing:

"Wait a while, Mary! I want to explain! I want to apologize! For God's
sake listen to me, Mary!"

But Mary didn't hear him. Perhaps she misunderstood the reason of the
chase and gave him credit for a spice of the devil in his nature. But
Robert grew really desperate; he felt that the thing must be fixed up
now or never, and gave his horse a free rein. Her horse was the fastest,
and Robert galloped in the dust from his heels for about a mile and a
half; then at the foot of a rise Mary's horse stumbled and nearly threw
her over his head, and then he stopped like the good horse he was.

Robert got down feeling instinctively that he might best make his peace
on foot, and approached Mary with a face of misery--she had dropped her
whip.

"Oh, Bob!" she said, "I'm knocked out;" and she slipped down into his
arms and stayed there a while.

They sat on a log and rested, while their horses made inquiries of each
other's noses, and compared notes.

And after a good while Mary said "No, Bob, it's no use talking of
marrying just yet. I like you, Bob, but I could never marry you while
things