Here he is; now do let's hurry. I want every bit of this
good time, don't you?"
There was no delaying longer. Rosamond, all eagerness, was leading the
way downstairs, her little riding-boots tapping her departure. Stephen
was waiting for Roberta; she had to precede him. The next she knew she
was down and out upon the porch, and Richard Kendrick, hat and crop in
hand, was meeting her halfway, his expectant eyes upon her face. One
glance at him was all she was giving him, and he was mercifully making
no sign that any one looking on could have recognized beyond his eager
scrutiny as his hand clasped hers. And then in two minutes they were
off, and Roberta, feeling the saddle beneath her and Colonel's familiar
tug on the bit at the start-off--he was always impatient to get
away--was realizing that the worst, at least for the present, was over.
"Which way?" called Stephen, who was leading with Rosamond.
"Out the road past the West Wood marshes, please--straight out. Take it
moderately; we're going about twelve miles and it's pretty warm yet."
There was not much talking while they were within the city limits--nor
after they were past, for that matter.
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