got back home.
Sylvia and Runyon had made a run for it and had got home before the worst
of it came, she had said. But Harboro and the General Manager had waited
until the storm had spent itself, both sitting in the carriage with their
handkerchiefs pressed to their nostrils, and their coats drawn up about
their heads. He remembered, too, how the dust-fog had lingered in the air
until well into the next day, like a ghost which could not be laid.

He brought himself back from the recollection of that night. "If you like,
I'll have the horse sent every day--or, better still, you shall have a
horse of your own."

"No," replied Sylvia, "I might not care to go often." She had let her hair
down and was brushing it thoughtfully. "The things which are ordered for
you in advance are always half spoiled," she added. "It's better to think
of things all of a sudden, and do them."

He looked at her in perplexity. That wasn't his way, certainly; but then
she was still occasionally something of an enigma to him. He tried to
dismiss the matter from his mind. He was provoked that it came back again
and again, as if there were something extraordinary about it, something
mysterious. "She only went for a ride," he said to himself late at night,
as if he were defending her.

CHAPTER XXIV

A month later Harboro came home one afternoon to find an envelope
addressed to him on the table in the front hall.

He was glad afterward that Sylvia was engaged with Antonia in the
dining-room, and did not have a chance to observe him as he examined the
thing which that envelope contained.

It was a statement from one of the stables of the town, and it set forth
the fact that Harboro was indebted to the stable for horse-hire. There
were items, showing that on seven occasions during the past month a horse
had been placed at the disposal of Mrs. Harboro.

Harboro was almost foolishly bewildered. Sylvia had gone riding seven
times during the month, and she had not even mentioned the matter to him!
Clearly here was a mystery. Her days were not sufficiently full of events
to make seven outings a matter of little consequence to her. She was not
given to reticence, even touching very little things. She had some reason
for not wishing him to know of these movements of hers.

But this conclusion was absurd, of course. She would understand that the
bill for services rendered would eventually come to him. He was relieved
when that conclusion came t