“We never trouble about Ruth,” he replied. “She finds her own way everywhere. She will probably go across the stepping stones and get there first.”
“Are you never afraid of her coming to harm?” she asked.
“She never does,” said Arthur. He spoke briefly, and immediately turned from the subject. “Do you mind if we go for a stretch first? The horse is fresh.”
“Mind!” said Frances. “I’d love it!”
He laughed, and she knew in a moment that the plan was by no means an impromptu one. “It will do you good,” he said, and turned the horse’s head towards the moors.
They came out upon an open road and went like the wind. The day was glorious, the distant tors all blue and purple in the sunshine. They followed a direction she had never explored, and presently turned off up a wide track that seemed to wind into the very heart of the hills.
“Afraid it’s rather bumpy,” said Arthur. “Do you mind?”
“I mind nothing,” she answered simply.
He glanced at her. “You are not disliking it?”
She drew a long breath. “I don’t believe I ever knew what life could be before to-day.”