"How are they to-day, James?"
"Fit for twenty miles, straight away or 'cross-lots, sir. Your mount is feeling his oats this morning; he hasn't been out for a run since Thursday, sir. I've put the curb on him in case he takes it into his head to cut up shines. Here comes Miss Kate, sir."
Carrington's pulse rose. Kate was approaching them. She was pale but serene. She smiled a good morning, which took in the gentleman and the groom.
"I hope I haven't kept you waiting."
"Not a moment; I only just got down myself," said Carrington.
She mounted without assistance and adjusted her skirts. The filly began to waltz, impatient to be off.
"To the beach?" Carrington asked, swinging into his saddle.
She nodded, and they started off toward the highway at a smart trot. Once there, the animals broke into an easy canter, which they maintained for a mile or more. Then Kate drew down to a walk.
"What a day!" said he, waving his hand toward the sea-line.
There was color a-plenty on her cheeks now, and her eyes shone like precious stones. There is no exhilaration quite like it. She flicked the elders with her crop, and once or twice reached up for a ripening apple. In the air there was the strange sea-smell, mingled with the warm scent of clover.