Lucina galloped past at Lawrence's side, with an eddying puff of blue riding-skirt and a toss of yellow curls and blue plumes.

Jerome stood back a little to give them space, and the dust settled slowly over him after they were by.

Then he went on his way, with his heart beating hard, yet with no feeling of jealousy against Lawrence Prescott.

He even thought that it would be a good match.

Still, he was curiously disturbed, not by the reflection that he was laden with sheaves of leather--he would have been more ashamed had he been seen idling on a work-day--but because he feared he looked so untidy with the dust of the road on his shoes.