brilliant pair of scarlet worsted reins, gay with bells; heard her
hiss like any proper groom as tandemwise she harnessed David and
Angela, those restive steeds.

The equipage was about to start--she had cracked her whip, clicked her
tongue--when with thumping heart, with face that matched the flaming
reins, hat in hand he approached; spoke the driver.

Her steeds turned about; with wide, unblinking eyes, searched his face
and hers.

"Your faces are very red," Angela said. "Are you angry?"

"You have got very red faces," David echoed. "Are you in a temper?"

Mary told them No; George said they were fine horses; felt legs;
offered to buy them.

His words purchased their hearts, which were more valuable.

After the drive they would return to the stable, which was this seat,
Mary told him; she could not stay to speak to him any longer. George
declared he was the stable groom and would wait.

Away they dashed at handsome speed, right round the inner circle;
returned more sedately, a little out of breath. There had been,
moreover, an accident: leader, it appeared, had fallen and cut his
knees.

"I shied at a motor," David explained, proud of the red blood now that