The girl was really beautiful; more than that, she was fresh with youth and gaiety, gaiety which older women find necessary to repress.

She was dressed in a dark grey riding-habit and wore a beaver cocked-hat.
"Good morning," he said, touching his cap with his crop.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting." "Only a moment." The truth is, she wanted to prove to him that there was one woman who did not keep men waiting.

"Shall I pick the going ?" "I'm afraid I've lost track of the good country roads." "Follow me, then." They walked their horses to the city limits.

You never saw either of them galloping over brick or asphalt, which quickly ruins the surest-footed horse; neither did they permit any fox-trotting, which, while it shows off a spirited horse, decreases his value in the ring.