She glanced at him wistfully.

"You are right. The girls have gone away by themselves. Mr. Peyton has
ridden over to Santa Inez on this dreadful land business, and I suppose
you'd have found him a dull riding companion. It is rather stupid here.
I quite envy you, Mr. Brant, your horse and your freedom."

"But, Mrs. Peyton," broke in Clarence, impulsively, "you have a horse--I
saw it, a lovely lady's horse--eating its head off in the stable. Won't
you let me run back and order it; and won't you, please, come out with
me for a good, long gallop?"

He meant what he said. He had spoken quickly, impulsively, but with the
perfect understanding in his own mind that his proposition meant the
complete abandonment of his rendezvous with Susy. Mrs. Peyton was
astounded and slightly stirred with his earnestness, albeit unaware of
all it implied.

"It's a great temptation, Mr. Brant," she said, with a playful smile,
which dazzled Clarence with its first faint suggestion of a refined
woman's coquetry; "but I'm afraid that Mr. Peyton would think me going
mad in my old age. No. Go on and enjoy your gallop, and if you should
see those giddy girls anywhere, send them home early for chocolate,
before the cold wind gets up."

She turned, waved her slim white hand playfully in acknowledgment of
Clarence's bared head, and moved away.

For the first few moments the young man tried to find relief in furious