The tone of conversation would try my weak head; I am not capable yet of intellectual effort.' The little girl looked at him with puzzled eyes.
'Well, it can't be helped,' she said.

'I must go back to my lessons.' She ran off, and Wilfrid went up to his dressing-room.

When he came down, Oberon was pawing the gravel before the door.

He mounted and rode away.
His spirits, which at first seemed to suffer some depression, took vigour once more from the air of the downs.

He put Oberon at a leap or two, then let the breeze sing in his ears as he was borne at a gallop over the summer land, golden with sunlight.