"I do think of them—and of many other things. I am always thinking now. I wish to be a happy old woman—if ever I am an old woman—to try and be faithful to my ideals, and to do my duty—nothing else matters."
"Do you believe in the doctrine of compensation? If you don't have some things—there are others?"
"It would be a compensation, if you came to Almora, Angel."
Angel shook her head. She was engaged with her irritable young horse, who, maddened by a fly, had broken into a mad frenzy of kicking, culminating in two passionate buck jumps.
"He wants a good bucketing," said Mrs. Gordon; "you should take him round the racecourse."
"I should," agreed his rider, a little out of breath, "but it's too late this morning. Have you seen Mrs. Waldershare yet?"
"Yes; I returned her visit yesterday."
Angel's eyes instantly asked a dozen questions, in reply to which Mrs. Gordon said: "I do not admire her."
"But don't you see that she is beautiful?"
"I see that she is a woman of the world. I can understand her attraction for some, but I don't care for a slow, coiling manner, or that crooked smile and drawl."