“Perhaps they felt tired, and have gone home. Dreda’s all right if she has someone with her,” returned Rowena easily, and Gurth accepted the explanation and immediately dismissed the subject from his mind.
Guy Seton was troubled with no fears about the missing girls; but hearing Rowena mention the word “tired,” became straightway devoured with anxiety lest the epithet should in any way apply to herself. In vain did she protest with the most radiant and dimpling of smiles. She could no more deny that four hours in the saddle was an unusual exertion than that the weather had taken a change for the worse, and that home lay a good eight miles away. The exhilaration of the moment was such that she felt as if it were impossible ever to be tired again; nevertheless, it was sweet to be cared for, sweet to subject her own will to that of Guy Seton. So the end of the discussion was that the hunt was abandoned, and while the field went gaily chasing after a fresh scent, these two riders turned their horses’ heads and jogged slowly in the direction of home.
Suddenly an overpowering feeling of shyness seized upon Rowena. Every moment took her farther away from her companions; the country ahead looked misty and solitary; Guy Seton’s eyes were fixed upon her face with an expression at once so wistful and so ardent that it seemed impossible to meet it with her own. In her heart of hearts Rowena knew perfectly well what that look meant; but with the curious inconsistency of her sex the impulse was strong upon her to fly from what she had most longed for and desired. Conversation was the best refuge for the moment, and she plunged hastily into the first subject which presented itself.
“I wonder if we shall find Dreda waiting at home! Poor Dreda, she was so disgusted at having to follow on wheels. She refused point blank to come, as she had not a mount; but at the last moment it seemed too dull to stay at home all by herself. She is such a good horsewoman—far better than I am. Perhaps next meet you will be very, very kind and take her with you?”
Guy Seton’s face suddenly assumed an expression of acute anxiety and discomfort.
“Why should I take her? You are not—surely you are not going away?”
“Oh, no—oh, no; but it is Dreda’s holiday. She would love it so! It would be such a treat.”
“And you? Does that mean that you don’t enjoy it? That you would rather stay at home and let her come in your place?”
Rowena blushed.
“Of course it doesn’t. I love it, too; but I wasn’t thinking of myself. Dreda thinks—she believes that you made some sort of promise that you would give her a mount, and she is counting upon you to keep it. She would be so disappointed—”