His head sank. "I daren't tell you," he said. I went on from one
imprudence to another. "What are you afraid of?" I asked. He
suddenly looked up at me. His eyes answered: _"You."_

Is it possible to fathom the folly of a woman in love? Can any
sensible person imagine the enormous importance which the veriest
trifles assume in her poor little mind? I was perfectly
satisfied--even perfectly happy, after that one look. I rode on
briskly for a minute or two--then the forgotten scene at the
stable recurred to my memory. I resumed a foot-pace and beckoned
to him to speak to me.

"Lady Claudia's bookseller lives in the City, doesn't he?" I
began.

"Yes, miss."

"Did you walk both ways?"

"Yes."

"You must have felt tired when you got back?"

"I hardly remember what I felt when I got back--I was met by a
surprise."

"May I ask what it was?"

"Certainly, miss. Do you remember a black bag of mine?"