He sent the uncaring gig away, laid his arm across Bendigo's neck, and his cheek against Bendigo's cheek.

Then he whispered a few words in his ear and leaped into the saddle as only a Yorkshireman or a gypsy can leap, and Bendigo, thrilling with delight, carried his master swiftly away from the gig and its driver, neighing with triumph as he passed them.
When about halfway to the mill he met Miss Harlow returning home from her early morning walk.

She was dressed with extreme simplicity in a short frock of pink corduroy, and a sailor hat of coarse Dunstable straw, with a pink ribbon round it.

Long, soft, white leather gauntlets covered her hands, and she carried in them a little basket of straw, full of bluebells and ferns.

John saw her approaching and he noticed the lift of her head and the lift of her foot and said to himself, "Proud! Proud!" but in his heart he thought no harm of her stately, graceful carriage.