We were spinning round in a double quickstep which tried even Uncle Nico's seasoned arm.
"Carette," I whispered into the little pink shell of an ear, so near my lips that it was hard to keep from kissing it, "will you ride with me to-morrow ?" and my heart went faster than my feet and set me tumbling over them.

For Midsummer Day is Riding Day in Sercq, and he who asks a maid to share his horse that day is understood to desire her company on a longer journey still, and her consent to the one is generally taken to mean that she agrees to the other as well.

So my little question held a mighty meaning, and no wonder my heart went quicker than my feet and set me stumbling over them as I waited for her answer.
"Not to-morrow, Phil," she whispered, and my heart stood still.

Then it went on its way like a wave out of the west, when she murmured, "It's to-day we ride, not to-morrow," meaning that we had danced the night out.
"Then you will, Carette?
You will ?" "You're late in the day, you know," she said, teasing still, as maids will when they know a man's heart is under their feet.
"But I only got home this evening--" "Monsieur Torode asked me hours ago." "But you haven't promised him, Carette ?" and I felt as though all my life depended on her answer.
"I said I'd see.

But--" "Then you'll come with me, Carette," and I felt like kissing her there before them all.
"I'll tell you what I'll do, Phil.