How greatly he had altered since his arrival in the West! She recalled their first meeting and his spoiled, childish manner. He had scarcely known how to keep his seat in the saddle at that time. At present he rode with a fair amount of ease and self-assurance. His skin had reddened, the lines of his face showed firmer.
He was galloping by without observing her when Jeanette, with a sudden irresistible desire for companionship, called out to him.
"Cecil, are you on the way to our house? Won't you stop and speak to me for a moment?"
Jeanette was lying stretched out on a bed of soft prairie grass; beyond her the ground billowed and swam in a sea of green.
Indifferent to the lateness of the hour, a Western lark soared overhead, now and then uttering its peculiar sweet, wild note.
As Cecil drew near Jeanette sat upright.
He held the reins of his horse in one hand and looked as if he were reluctant to answer her summons.
"You need not remain long with me, Cecil, unless you wish. You were on your way to see us?"
Cecil nodded.
Jeanette had the sensation that he was avoiding looking at her.