"
"A new horse--to ride?"
"Yes. Hang it--I must get some riding. I had to handle Arab horses for
years. But we'll try this one in the gig first."
Merle was still standing with her arms round his neck, and now she
pressed her warm rich lips to his, close and closer. It was at
such moments that she loved him--when he stood trembling with a joy
unexpected, that took him unawares. She too trembled, with a blissful
thrill through soul and body; for once and at last it was she who gave.
"Ah!" he breathed at last, pale with emotion. "I--I'd be glad to die
like that."
A little later they stood on the balcony looking over the courtyard,
when a bearded farm-hand came up with a big light-maned chestnut horse
prancing in a halter. The beast stood still in the middle of the yard,
flung up its head, and neighed, and the horses in the stable neighed in
answer.
"Oh, what a beauty!" exclaimed Merle, clapping her hands.
"Put him into the gig," called Peer to the stable-boy who had come out
to take the horse.
The man touched his cap. "Horse has never been driven before, sir, I was
to say."
"Everything must have a beginning," said Peer.
Merle glanced at him. But they were both dressed to go out when the
chestnut came dancing up before the door with the gig. The white hoofs
pawed impatiently, the head was high in the air, and the eyes flashed
fire--he wasn't used to having shafts pressing on his sides and wheels
rumbling just behind him.
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