She afterwards had occasion to be very glad of it.
The party consisted of Mr.Breynton, Tom, Joy, Gypsy, Mr.and Mrs.
Hallam (this was the Mrs.Hallam who had once been Gypsy's teacher), Sarah Rowe, and her brother Francis, who was home from college on account of ill health, he said.

Tom always coughed and arched his eyebrows in a very peculiar way when this was mentioned, but Gypsy could never find out what he did it for.
The day, as I said, was royal.

The sky, the river, the delicate golden green of the young leaves and grass, the lights and shadows on the distant mountains, all were mellowed in together like one of Church's pictures, and there was one of those spicy winds that Gypsy always described by saying that "the angels had been showering great bottles of fresh cologne-water into them." The young people felt these things in a sort of dreamy, unconscious way, but they were too busy and too merry to notice them in detail.
Joy was mounted safely on demure Billy, and Gypsy rode--not Mr.Burt's iron-gray, for Tom claimed that--but a free, though manageable pony, with just the arch of the neck, toss of the mane, and coquettish lifting of the feet that she particularly fancied.

The rest were variously mounted: Francis Rowe rode a fiery colt that his father had just bought, and the like of which was not to be seen in Yorkbury.
Up--up, winding on and away, through odors of fragrant pines and unseen flowers, under the soft, green shadows, through the yellow lights.

How beautiful--how beautiful it was! "Who'll race with me ?" inquired Mr.Francis Rowe suddenly.