Rowena and Guy Seton gave themselves up to the pleasures of the hunt,
blissfully forgetful of the young brothers and sisters who were
following on wheels; and, indeed, of everything and everyone but just
their own two selves. There seemed always to be some incontrovertible
reason why they should keep by themselves, a little apart from the rest
of the field. Rowena's hunting experiences had been few, and her escort
was too anxious about her safety to allow her to try any but the very
simplest and smallest of jumps. This excess of precaution necessitated
many a detour, but neither of the two seemed anxious to make up for lost
time by putting on extra speed to catch up with their friends; and the
interest in the pursuit of the fox was of so perfunctory a nature that
it often seemed more by chance than by design that they took the right
turnings at all!
It was after two o'clock when Rowena was refreshing herself with
sandwiches produced from Guy Seton's case during an interval of rest,
when the hounds were drawing a spinney, that she cast her eyes to right
and left over the scattered field, and remarked carelessly:
"I don't see Dreda! The boys are there, and the Websters and Maud; but
I don't see Dreda anywhere--do you?"
Guy Seton cast a cursory glance in the direction indicated.
"She is probably behind a tree or a hedge, hiding from the wind. Miss
Dreda strikes me as a young woman who can take remarkably good care of
herself. Do take another sandwich! To please me! I'm so afraid you
will feel faint."
Evidently Rowena was considered less able to look after herself than her
younger sister; for on this, as at every moment of the afternoon, she
was guarded, directed, and cared for as though she had been the most
helpless and timid of children; and the extraordinary thing about it was
that Rowena, who was in reality a most capable and self-confident young
woman, made not the slightest objection, but seemed thoroughly to enjoy
the experience.
Half an hour later on Gurth took the opportunity of another halt to ride
up to Rowena's side with a repetition of her own question.
"I say, Ro--have you seen anything of Dreda? She and Norah West seem to
have disappeared altogether. I can't think what's happened to them."
"Perhaps they felt tired, and have gone home. Dreda's all right if she
has someone with her," returned Rowena easily, and Gurth accepted the
explanation and immediately dismissed the subject from his mind.
Guy Seton was troubled with no fears about the missing girls; but
hearing Rowena mention the word "tired," became straightway devoured
with anxiety lest the epithet should in any way apply to herself. In
vain did she protest with the most radiant and dimpling of smiles. She
could no more deny that four hours in the saddle was an unusual exertion
than that the weather had taken a change for the worse, and that home
lay a good eight miles away. The exhilaration of the moment was such
that she felt as if it were impossible ever to be tired again;
nevertheless, it was sweet to be cared for, sweet to subject her own
will to that of Guy Seton. So the end of the discussion was that the
hunt was abandoned, and while the field went gaily chasing after a fresh
scent, these two riders turned their horses' heads and jogged slowly in
the direction of home.
Suddenly an overpowering feeling of shyness seized upon Rowena. Every
moment took her farther away from her companions; the country ahead
looked misty and solitary; Guy Seton's eyes were fixed upon her face
with an expression at once so wistful and so ardent that it seemed
impossible to meet it with her own. In her heart of hearts Rowena knew
perfectly well what that look meant; but with the curious inconsistency
of her sex the impulse was strong upon her to fly from what she had most
longed for and desired. Conversation was the best refuge for the
moment, and she plunged hastily into the first subject which presented
itself.
"I wonder if we shall find Dreda waiting at home! Poor Dreda, she was
so disgusted at having to follow on wheels. She refused point blank to
come, as she had not a mount; but at the last moment it seemed too dull
to stay at home all by herself. She is such a good horsewoman--far
better than I am. Perhaps next meet you will be very, very kind and
take her with you?"
Guy Seton's face suddenly assumed an expression of acute anxiety and
discomfort.
"Why should I take her? You are not--surely you are not _going away_?"
"Oh, no--oh, no; but it is Dreda's holiday. She would love it so! It
would be such a treat."
"And you? Does that mean that you _don't_ enjoy it? That you would
rather stay at home and let her come in your place?"
Rowena blushed.
"Of course it doesn't. I love it, too; but I wasn't thinking of myself.
Dreda thinks--she believes that you made some sort of promise that you
would give her a mount, and she is counting upon you to keep it. She
would be so disappointed--"
But Guy Seton had forgotten all about his lightly spoken words, and was
in no mood to be reminded.
"I think she must be mistaken, don't you know!" he protested easily.
"It's always the same thing with youngsters of that age. If one is
foolish enough to say a word, they leap to the conclusion that it is a
definite arrangement. I've learnt that with my own nephews and nieces.
I saw so very little of Miss Dreda before she went off to school that I
could hardly have had time to promise."
"I don't think it took very much time. So far as I understand, it was
on the afternoon when you first met--"
"The afternoon when I came over to call? I remember nothing whatever
about that afternoon except that I saw you, for the first time, and that
you were unkind to me, and wouldn't speak."
The blush on Rowena's cheeks flamed up again more rosily than before.
"Don't speak of it, please! It makes me hot and so furious with Maud
even now. You are not a girl, so you can't understand; but I was so
wretchedly embarrassed, and angry, and ashamed."
"But why? That's what I could not understand! You had been sweet
enough, and unselfish enough, and hospitable enough to go to the trouble
of putting on a pretty frock--I adore that blue frock--for the benefit
of a casual stranger whom you had never even seen. Why should you be
ashamed of that? I think it was jolly unselfish. It's such a fag
changing one's kit. You ought to have been very complacent and pleased.
You _would_ have been if you could have changed places with me for a
minute, and seen yourself walking into the room. If you knew what I
thought--"
He paused, and Rowena, scenting danger, resolved that nothing on earth
would make her put the obvious question. The resolution lasted for a
whole half-minute, at the end of which time a feeble little voice
demanded softly:
"Wh-at did you think?"
"I thought--oh, Rowena! so many, many things! I thought that I had
dreamt of you all my life, and had found you at last. I thought you
were the loveliest thing in the whole wide world. I wished I had been a
better man for your sake! I was so happy to have met you, and so
miserable because you were cross. It was such a bad beginning that I
was afraid you would always be prejudiced--always dislike me."
Again he paused, and Rowena bent over her horse's head, stroking its
mane, keeping her eyes persistently downcast. They traversed another
hundred yards before the low, insistent tones again struck on her ear.
"_Do_ you, Rowena?"
"Do I--what?"
"Dislike me still?"
"I? Oh, what a question! I never disliked you. I was angry with Maud,
and with myself--not with you at all."
"But I want so much more. Don't you know that, Rowena? I tumbled
headlong in love with you that very afternoon, and I've gone on tumbling
deeper and deeper ever since. Do you care for me a little bit, Rowena?
_Could_ you care? I'm such a stupid, ordinary sort of fellow. I don't
know how I dare ask such a thing of a girl like you--the loveliest,
sweetest girl that ever lived--but I just _have_ to, and that's the
truth! I can't stand the suspense another hour.--If I waited long
enough would there be a chance for me in the end? If I were very, very
patient!"
A dimple dipped in the lovely curve of Rowena's cheek. She was sure
now--quite, quite sure! It was not merely a foolish, girlish
imagination. Guy loved her. Guy wanted her for his wife. She had
entered into her woman's kingdom, and, womanlike, began instantly to
adopt provocative little airs and graces.
"But I--I don't want you to be--to be--"
"To be what? _What_ don't you want me to be, Rowena?"
"P-atient!" sighed Rowena, and turned her head with a smile and a glance
and a blush which transformed the grey winter landscape into a very
Garden of Eden for the man by her side.
Ah, well! it was a blissful half-hour which followed, filled with the
inevitable questionings and recollections which every fresh Adam and Eve
believe to be their own exclusive property. "What did you think?"
"What did you mean?"
"Why did you say?"
"What was the first--the very first moment when you began to care?"
Hand in hand they passed along the country lanes, the reins lying slack
on the necks of their tired steeds; hand in hand they turned in at the
farther gate of the ploughed roads which lay across the fields, and
halfway along its length came suddenly upon the two still, half-
conscious figures of Dreda and Norah West.