Have I been unnecessarily rough and
expeditious?"
"You have had a long and tiresome walk," she said, settling herself
for a merry clip. "Please don't step on our side." He released the
bridle rein and doffed his hat.
"I shall bring my horse to-morrow," he remarked significantly.
"I may bring the duke," she said sweetly.
"In that case I shall have to bring an extra man to lead his horse. It
won't matter."
"So this rock is the dividing line?"
"Yes; you are on the safe side now--and so am I, for that matter. The
line is here," and he drew a broad line in the dust from one side of
the road to the other. "My orders are that you are not to ride across
that line, at your peril."
"And you are not to cross it either, at _your_ peril."
"Do you dare me?" with an eager step forward.
"Good-bye."
"Good-bye! I say, are you sure you can find the Kenwood cottage?" he
called after her. The answer came back through the clatter of hoofs,
accompanied by a smile that seduced his self-possession.
"I shall find it in time."
For a long time he stood watching her as she raced down the road.
"At my peril," he mused, shaking his head with a queer smile. "By
George, that's fair warning enough. She's beautiful."
At dinner that night the Honorable Penelope restored the watch to her
brother, much to his embarrassment, for he had told the duke it was
being repaired in town.
"It wasn't this watch that I meant, old chap," he announced,
irrelevantly, to the duke, quite red in the face.
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