'Most probably I shall grow bald all round it, and leave it upstanding. Never mind. I say, Mawfy, I've——'
'Don't speak so loudly,' said Marion in sudden contrition. 'I had forgotten, Elise has a headache.'
Roger made a slight grimace. 'Put on your habit, and come for a ride,' he said softly. ''Tis my last chance. I hear you are going Thursday. And to-morrow I must go down country about some sheep.'
'Good,' said Marion. 'I will only be five minutes. Will you ask Zacchary to saddle the grey?'
As they rode out of the courtyard and turned their horses towards the downs, Marion gave one of her sudden chuckles. 'Do you remember Starlight,' she said, 'and the fights we used to have about my riding him?'
'I remember. He was a vicious brute. I was always glad I bullied you on that score. What has made you remember Starlight?'
'I had a thinking fit this afternoon,' said Marion, 'and all sorts of things came back to me. Things we did when we were children.'
'Ay,' said Roger. 'Do you remember——' And the two went off together on a journey of reminiscences that lasted them, with breathless intervals when the ground tempted a gallop, for close on an hour. The memory of that ride lived long with Marion; in talking of their childhood they had become children again.
On a windy ridge some dozen miles from the house they paused to breathe their horses. Marion looked across the land, all touched with tender green, to the distant Channel.
'I wish Aunt Constance had asked me to visit her at any time but the spring,' she said suddenly. 'And I can't conceive how I shall endure many weeks without the smell of the sea.'