Suddenly she understood. It was the sheer romance of the thing which had
appealed to him; there was no audacity about it.
He was watching her anxiously as she stared at the cabin; she came
suddenly to the realization of that. Then he threw himself off his horse
as they neared the rail fence, fastened him, and came back to Roberta.
Near-by, Stephen was taking Rosamond down and she was exclaiming over
the charm of the place.
Richard came close, looking straight up into Roberta's face, which was
like a wild-rose for colouring, but very sober. Her eyes would not meet
his. His own face had paled a little, in spite of all its healthy,
outdoor hues.
"Oh, don't misunderstand me," he whispered. "Wait--till I can tell you
all about it. I was wild to do something--anything--that would make you
seem nearer. Don't misunderstand--_dear_!"
Stephen's voice, calling a question about the horses, brought him back
to a realization of the fact that his time was not yet, and that he must
continue to act the part of the sane and responsible host. He turned,
summoning all his social training, and replied to the question in his
usual quiet tone.
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