used Forsyth to ride with her
mother, ostensibly as a courtesy to that young gentleman,--a courtesy
which, it may be conjectured, was not fully appreciated. At first he
accepted it with the good nature of one who feels his position secure,
but gradually that good nature gave way to a certain testiness of
spirit which he could not entirely conceal. It became evident that he
would have preferred other ways of spending the Sunday afternoons. The
parks, for instance, or quiet walks through the cottonwoods by the
river. . .

The crisis was precipitated one fine Sunday in September, in the first
year of Dave's newspaper experience. Dave called early, and found
Edith in a riding habit.

"Mother is 'indisposed,' as they say in the society page," she
explained. "In other words, she doesn't wish to be bothered. So I
thought we would ride to-day."

"But there are only two horses," said Dave.

"Well?" queried the girl, and there was a note in her voice that
sounded strange to him. Then, after a pause in which the colour slowly
rose to her cheeks, "There are only two of us."

"But Mr. Forsyth?"

"He is not here. He may not come. Will you saddle the horses and let
us get away?"

It was evident to Dave that, for some reason, Edith wished to evade
Forsyth this afternoon. A lover's quarrel, no doubt. That she had a
preference for him, and was revealing it with the utmost frankness,
never occurred to his sturdy, honest mind. One of the delights of his
companionship with Edith had been that it was a real companionship.
None of the limitations occasioned by any sex consciousness had
narrowed the sphere of the frank friendship he felt for her. She was
to him almost as another man, yet in no sense masculine. It seemed
rather that her femininity was of such purity that, like the atmosphere
he breathed, it surrounded him, flooded him without exciting
consciousness of its existence. Save for a certain tender delicacy
which her womanhood inspired, he came and went with her as he might
have done with a man chum of his own age. And when she preferred to
ride _without_ Forsyth it did not occur to Elden that she preferred to
ride _with_ him.

They were soon in the country, and Edith, leading, swung from the road
to a bridle trail that followed the winding of the river. As her
graceful figure drifted on ahead it seemed more than ever reminiscent
of Reenie Hardy. What rides they had had on those foothill trails!
What dipp