"I know you are usually asleep when I'm out and galloping," he laughed, "but you pitched me neck and crop into this hurly-burly, and I shouldn't have to lose everything. Don't have your horse brought. I want you to try out a new one of mine."

"I think," she answered, "that early morning is the best time to ride. I'll meet you at seven at the Plaza entrance."

The Call of the Cumberlands — Part 120

They had turned the upper end of the reservoir before Horton drew his mount to a walk, and allowed the reins to hang. They had been galloping hard, and conversation had been impracticable.

The Call of the Cumberlands — Part 120

"I suppose experience should have taught me," began Horton, slowly, "that the most asinine thing in the world is to try to lecture you, Drennie. But there are times when one must even risk your delight at one's discomfiture."

The Call of the Cumberlands — Part 120

"I'm not going to tease you this morning," she answered, docilely. "I like the horse too well--and, to be frank, I like you too well!"

"Thank you," smiled Horton. "As usual, you disarm me on the verge of combat. I had nerved myself for ridicule."

"What have I done now?" inquired the girl, with an innocence which further disarmed him.

"The Queen can do no wrong. But even the Queen, perhaps more particularly the Queen, must give thought to what people are saying."

"The usual unjust things that are said about women in society. You are being constantly seen with an uncouth freak who is scarcely a gentleman, however much he may be a man. And malicious tongues are wagging."

"I won't spar with you. I know that you are alluding to Samson South, though the description is a slander. I never thought it would be necessary to say such a thing to you, Wilfred, but you are talking like a cad."

"I laid myself open to that," he said, slowly, "and I suppose I should have expected it."

He knew her well enough to dread the calmness of her more serious anger, and just now the tilt of her chin, the ominous light of her deep eyes and the quality of her voice told him that he had incurred it.

"May I ask," Adrienne inquired, "what you fancy constitutes your right to assume this censorship of my conduct?"

"I have no censorship, of course. I have only the interest of loving you, and meaning to marry you."

"And I may remark in passing, that you are making no progress to that end by slandering my friends."