he might come out here in a month, himself. And I
have been dying to get away from the petty conventionalities of the East.
I am going to be absolutely human for a while, Aunty. I am going to 'rough
it'--that is, as much as one can rough it when one is domiciled in a
private car. I am going to get a horse and have a look at the country. And
Aunty--" here the girl's voice came chokingly, as though some deep emotion
agitated her "--I am going to ride 'straddle'!"

She did not look to see whether Agatha had survived this second shock--but
Agatha had survived many such shocks. It was only when, after a silence of
several minutes, Agatha spoke again, that the girl seemed to remember
there was anybody in the compartment with her. Agatha's voice was laden
with contempt:

"Well, I don't know what you see in this outlandish place to compensate
for what you miss at home."

The girl did not look around. "A man on a black horse, Aunty," she said.
"He has passed here twice. I have never seen such a horse. I don't
remember to have ever seen a man quite like the rider. He looks
positively--er--_heroish_! He is built like a Roman gladiator, he rides
the black horse as though he had been sculptured on it, and his head has a
set that makes one feel he has a mind of his own. He has furnished me with
the only thrill that I have felt since we left New York!"

"He hasn't seen _you_!" said Agatha, coldly; "of course you made sure of
_that_?"

The girl looked mischievously at the older woman. She ran her fingers
through her hair--brown and vigorous-looking--then shaded her eyes with
her hands and gazed at her reflection in a mirror near by. In deshabille
she looked fresh and bewitching. She had looked like a radiant goddess to
"Brand" Trevison, when he had accidentally caught a glimpse of her face at
the window while she had been watching him. He had not known that the lady
had just awakened from her beauty sleep. He would have sworn that she
needed no beauty sleep. And he had deliberately ridden past the car again,
hoping to get another glimpse of her. The girl smiled.

"I am not so positive about that, Aunty. Let us not be prudish. If he saw
me, he made no sign, and therefore he is a gentleman." She looked out of
the window and smiled again. "There he is now, Aunty!"

It was Agatha who parted the curtains, this time. The horseman's face was
toward the window, and he saw her. An expression of puzzled astonishment
glowed in his eyes, s