She started, and turned with a suddenness that caused the animal he rode to swerve. Recovering her composure as suddenly, she slightly inclined her head and turning from him, proceeded toward the house.
"Stay, Miss Oriana, if you please."
She paused and glanced somewhat haughtily over her shoulder.
"May I speak a word with you?"
"My aunt, sir, is within; if you have business, I will inform her of your presence."
"My business is with you, Miss Weems," and, dismounting, he passed through the gate and stepped quickly to her side.
"Why do you avoid me?"
Her dark eye flashed in the twilight, and she drew her slight form up till it seemed to gain a foot in height.
"We do not seek to enlarge our social circle, Mr. Rawbon. You will excuse me if I leave you abruptly, but the night dew begins to fall."
She moved on, but he followed and placed his hand gently on her arm. She shook it off with more of fierceness than dignity, and the man's eyes fairly sought the ground beneath the glance she gave him.