"At Mayfield?"
"At Pigeon-Wood," I muttered.
"More gallantry!" she said, tossing her head. "But young men must have their fling, and I am not jealous of Betsy Browse or of her pretty sister, so that you ride not toward Caughnawaga——"
"What?"
"To see this rustic beauty, Penelope Grant——"
"Have I not refused to seek her for you?" I demanded.
"Yes, but not for yourself, Jack! Curiosity killed a cat and started a young man on his travels!"
Exasperated by her malice I struck my mare's flanks with moccasined heels; and as I rode out into the darkness Claudia's gaily mocking laugh floated after me on the still, sweet air.