y her unquestioned
good breeding, mental refinement, and a certain languorous
thoughtfulness that was almost melancholy, which accented her blonde
delicacy. But he had noticed that her manner was politely reserved and
slightly constrained towards the Harcourts, and he had already resented
it with a lover's instinctive loyalty. He had at first attributed it
to a want of sympathy between Mrs. Ashwood's more intellectual
sentimentalities and the Harcourts' undeniable lack of any sentiment
whatever. But there was evidently some other innate antagonism. He
was very polite to Mrs. Ashwood; she responded with a gentlewoman's
courtesy, and, he was forced to admit, even a broader comprehension
of his own merits than the Harcourt girls had ever shown, but he could
still detect that she was not in accord with the party.
"I am afraid you do not like California, Mrs. Ashwood?" he said
pleasantly. "You perhaps find the life here too unrestrained and
unconventional?"
She looked at him in quick astonishment. "Are you quite sincere? Why,
it strikes me that this is just what it is NOT. And I have so longed
for something quite different. From what I have been told about the
originality and adventure of everything here, and your independence of
old social forms and customs, I am afraid I expected the opposite
of what I've seen. Why, this very party--except that the ladies are
prettier and more expensively gotten up--is like any party that might
have ridden out at Saratoga or New York."
"And as stupid, you would say."
"As CONVENTIONAL, Mr. Grant; always excepting this lovely creature
beneath me, whom I can't make out and who doesn't seem to care that I
should. There! look! I told you so!"
Her mustang had suddenly bounded forward; but as Grant followed he
could see that the cause was the example of Phemie, who had, in some
mad freak, dashed out in a frantic gallop. A half-dozen of the
younger people hilariously accepted the challenge; the excitement was
communicated to the others, until the whole cavalcade was sweeping
down the slope. Grant was still at Mrs. Ashwood's side, restraining
her mustang and his own impatient horse when Clementina joined them.
"Phemie's mare has really bolted, I fear," she said in a quick whisper,
"ride on, and never mind us." Grant looked quickly ahead; Phemie's roan,
excited by the shouts behind her and to all appearance ungovernable, was
fast disappearing with her rider. Without a word, trusting to hi
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