"You ride, do you not?"
"There is a pleasant fiction that we have morning excursions, daily; but history records but three such felicitous events."
"Where was Arthur?"
"Hush, my dear sir, the country is sickly; and——" she said, sotto voce, "He will not hear of father's going out after nightfall; and they have had several difficult cases, of late, demanding almost constant attendance."
"Then, if you are willing, I will enter upon my duties as escort, to-morrow morning."
"Oh! not so soon! you may have time to recover from your fatigue."
"Fatigue! fudge! I could dance all night. Are you fond of riding, Miss Ross?"
"I used to like it; I am sadly out of practice now."
"A fault easily cured, if you are not timid."
"Not she!" said Carry; "and want of practice notwithstanding, she is a better horsewoman than I."