'That on the other side,' he said, pointing across the island, 'is more beautiful still. And there is shade, whilst here the sun grows too hot. But you must not walk so far. My horse has a very even pace. If you would let me lift you to the saddle—'
'Oh, gladly!' she answered, with a little laugh of pleasure.
And it was done. For a moment he held her, for a moment felt the warmth and softness of her flesh; then she sat sideways upon the horse, looking down at Marcian with startled gaiety. He showed her how to hold the reins, and the horse went gently forward.
'It makes me a child again,' she exclaimed. 'I have never ridden since I was a little girl, when my father—'
Her voice died away; her look was averted, and Marcian, remembering the shame that mingled with her memories, began to talk of other things.
By a path that circled the villa, they came to a little wood of ilex, which shadowed the brink of the larger cataract. Marcian had bidden Veranilda's woman follow them, but as they entered the wood, his companion looking eagerly before her, he turned and made a gesture of dismissal, which the servant at once obeyed. In the shadiest spot which offered a view of the plunging river, he asked Veranilda if she would alight.
'Willingly, I would spend an hour here,' she replied. 'The leafage and the water make such a delightful freshness.'
'I have anticipated your thought,' said Marcian. 'The woman is gone to bid them bring seats.'
Veranilda glanced back in surprise and saw that they were alone. She thanked him winsomely, and then, simply as before, accepted his help. Again Marcian held her an instant, her slim, light body trembling when he set her down, as if from a burden which strained his utmost force. She stepped forward to gaze at the fall. He, with an exclamation of alarm, caught her hand and held it.
'You are too rash,' he said in a thick voice. 'The depth, the roar of the waters, will daze you.'