she finished dressing with care; and the other to
the gambling house, summoning one of the waiters. When he came, she gave
him a note for Donnegan. The fellow flashed a glance at her as he took
the envelope. There was no need to give that name and address in The
Corner, and the girl tingled under the glance.

She finished her breakfast and then concentrated in polishing up her
appearance. From all of which it may be gathered that Nelly Lebrun was
in love with Donnegan, but she really was not. But he had touched in her
that cord of romance which runs through every woman; whenever it is
touched the vibration is music, and Nelly was filled with the sound of
it. And except for Lord Nick, there is no doubt that she would have
really lost her head; for she kept seeing the face of Donnegan, as he
had leaned toward her across the little table in Milligan's. And that,
as anyone may know, is a dangerous symptom.

Her glances were alternating between her mirror and her watch, and the
hands of the latter pointed to the fact that fifty minutes of her hour
had elapsed when a message came up that she was waited for in the street
below. So Nelly Lebrun went down in her riding costume, the corduroy
swishing at each step, and tapping her shining boots with the riding
crop. Her own horse she found at the hitching rack, and beside it
Donnegan was on his chestnut horse. It was a tall horse, and he looked
more diminutive than ever before, pitched so high in the saddle.

He was on the ground in a flash with the reins tucked under one arm and
his hat under the other; she became aware of gloves and white-linen
stock, and pale, narrow face. Truly Donnegan made a natty appearance.

"There's no day like a cool day for riding," she said, "and I thought
you might agree with me."

He untethered her horse while he murmured an answer. But for his
attitude she cared little so long as she had him riding away from that
house on the hill where Lord Nick in all his terror would appear in some
few minutes. Besides, as they swung up the road--the chestnut at a
long-strided canter and Nelly's black at a soft and choppy pace--the
wind of the gallop struck into her face; Nelly was made to enjoy things
one by one and not two by two. They hit over the hills, and when the
first impulse of the ride was done they were a mile or more away from
The Corner--and Lord Nick.

The resemblance between the two men was less striking now that she had
Donnegan beside her.