'
A duplicate of her original arrangement with Stephen. Some
fatality must be hanging over her head. But she ceased objecting.
'Very well, Harry, I'll ride,' she said meekly.
A quarter of an hour later she was in the saddle. But how
different the mood from that of the former time. She had, indeed,
given up her position as queen of the less to be vassal of the
greater. Here was no showing off now; no scampering out of sight
with Pansy, to perplex and tire her companion; no saucy remarks on
LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI. Elfride was burdened with the very
intensity of her love.
Knight did most of the talking along the journey. Elfride
silently listened, and entirely resigned herself to the motions of
the ambling horse upon which she sat, alternately rising and
sinking gently, like a sea bird upon a sea wave.
When they had reached the limit of a quadruped's possibilities in
walking, Knight tenderly lifted her from the saddle, tied the
horse, and rambled on with her to the seat in the rock. Knight
sat down, and drew Elfride deftly beside him, and they looked over
the sea.
Two or three degrees above that melancholy and eternally level
line, the ocean horizon, hung a sun of brass, with no visible
rays, in a sky of ashen hue. It was a sky the sun did not
illuminate or enkindle, as is usual at sunsets. This sheet of sky
was met by the salt mass of gray water, flecked here and there
with white.
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