“Love-making!”
Chum drew her knees up and clasped her hands round them as though she would gather her forces together; but as she did so her eyes fell on the back of her hand, where a faint red flush marred the white skin. It told tales of the rough pressure she had endured to her maddened mind, and she dropped it again to the ground—but this time out of reach—beside her. She glanced round the ring of faces and found no answering consciousness there. They were all trying the echo—shouting nonsense up the valley on the quiet evening air. She looked at Halton, and saw that he was looking down, apparently the most abstracted person present. But with a pang of fear she wondered if she would have read knowledge in the eyes veiled by his drooped lids. She was frightened, not only for herself, but for that other behind her, her woman’s intuition recognising the danger that lay under Halton’s quiet, and with characteristic courage she walked straight up to her danger to look it in the face.
“Are you going to ride home with me, Mr. Halton?” she contrived to say, as the ponies were saddled up for the return.
“If you have made no other arrangement?” he said tentatively. There was nothing to take hold of in the words, because Major Churton had ridden with her before, and might claim the privilege again. But she caught a covert insinuation and scored up an unpaid grudge against him.
“I am not using you to escape an unwelcome cavalier!” she said, as if accepting his own idea.
“What an unpleasant suggestion! I shall be wondering all the way which man is thirsting for my blood.”
“It would be a better compliment if you took it for granted that they were all envious. You are out of practice, Mr. Halton.”
“I have had none of late.”
“Never mind; use the present opportunity on my gown!”
“It is charming, of course!” he said, as he arranged the blanket over Liscarton’s streaked shoulders, and pulled the girth tight. “And no other lady would have dared to risk it on a hot pony, would they?”