At sight of her, the blood had flown to Maude's face also, and she

tried to check her horse; but Adonis, at any time rather more than she

could well manage, was fresh and too eager to join the other horse, and

he carried her up the field against her will. The two met almost face

to face, the horses exchanging friendly neighs. For a moment, while one

could count twenty, the two rivals sat and looked at each other. Half

unconsciously, Ida noticed the pallor and the worn look of the

beautiful face, the wistful peevishness of the delicately cut lip; then

suddenly Maude's face flushed, her eyes grew hard and scornful, and

with something like a sneer she said, in a metallic tone: "I beg your pardon, but are you aware that you are trespassing?"

Advertisement..

A saint would have turned on such provocation; and Ida, being no saint,

felt that her face was as crimson as the other girl's, and grew as hot

of heart as of face. She set her lips tightly and tried to remain

silent: surely it would be better, in every way better, to ride on

without a word. But it was more than she could do: and she drew herself

up and her eyes flashed back the challenge, as she said in a low but

distinct voice: "Pardon me, but you are mistaken. The land on which I am riding belongs

to me." Maude grew pale again, and her lips set closely until the line

of red almost disappeared.

"Is this not, then, part of the Villa estate?" she asked.

"No; it is part of the Herondale estate," replied Ida, rather more

gently: for was it not horrible that she should be engaged in

altercation with Stafford's future wife?

"Then I presume I have the honour of speaking to Miss Heron," said

Maude, with an indefinable air, combining contempt and defiance, which

brought the colour to Ida's face again.

"My name is Ida Heron; yes," she said.

"Then, if you are making no mistake, it is I who am trespassing," said

Maude, "and it is I who must apologise. Pray consider that I do so most

fully, Miss Heron."

"No apology is necessary," said Ida, still more gently. "You are quite

welcome to ride over this or any part of Herondale."

Maude gave a little scornful laugh.

"Thanks, it's very good of you!" she said, haughtily, and with that

covert offensiveness of which, alas! a woman alone is capable. "I do

not think I shall have any desire to avail myself of your kind

permission; the public roads and the land belonging to my father's

house will, I think, prove quite sufficient for me. I am the daughter

of Mr. Falconer, of the Villa at Brae Wood."




Most Popular