caught me!"

"But look at the start you had. I've had my troubles beating you with an
even break."

Sally was susceptible to flattery in regard to her riding, a fact that
I made subtle use of.

"But in a long race I was afraid you'd beat me. Russ, I've learned to
ride out here. Back home I never had room to ride a horse. Just look.
Miles and miles of level, of green. Little hills with black bunches of
trees. Not a soul in sight. Even the town hidden in the green. All wild
and lonely. Isn't it glorious, Russ?"

"Lately it's been getting to me," I replied soberly.

We both gazed out over the sea of gray-green, at the undulating waves
of ground in the distance. On these rides with her I had learned to
appreciate the beauty of the lonely reaches of plain.

But when I could look at her I seldom wasted time on scenery. Looking at
her now I tried to get again that impression of a difference in her. It
eluded me.

Just now with the rose in her brown cheeks, her hair flying, her eyes
with grave instead of mocking light, she seemed only prettier than
usual. I got down ostensibly to tighten the saddle girths on her horse.
But I lingered over the task.

Presently, when she looked down at me, I received that subtle impression