If you had asked old Antonia about these movements of her mistress she would have said: “Does not the señora need the air?” And she would have added: “She is young.” And finally she would have said: “I know nothing.”
It is a matter of knowledge that occasionally Sylvia would meet the boy from the stable when he arrived at the gate and instruct him gently to take the horse away, as she would not require it that day; and I am not sure she was not trying still to fight the battle which she had already lost; but this, of course, is mere surmise.
And then a little cog in the machine slipped.
A ranchman who lived out on the north road happened to be in Eagle Pass one evening as Harboro was passing through the town on his way home from work. The ranchman’s remark was entirely innocent, but rather unfortunate. “A very excellent horsewoman, Mrs. Harboro,” he remarked, among other things.
Harboro did not understand.
“I met her riding out the road this forenoon,” explained the ranchman.
“Oh, yes!” said Harboro. “Yes, she enjoys riding. I’m sorry, on her account, that I haven’t more liking for it myself.”
He went on up the hill, pondering. It was strange that Sylvia had not told him that she meant to go for a ride. She usually went into minute details touching her outings.
He expected her to mention the matter when he got home, but she did not do so. She seemed disposed not to confide in him throughout the entire evening, and finally he remarked with an air of suddenly remembering: “And so you went riding to-day?”
She frowned and lowered her eyes. She seemed to be trying to remember. “Why, yes,” she said, after a moment’s silence. “Yes, I felt rather dull this morning. You know I enjoy riding.”