Save for a certain tender delicacy
which her womanhood inspired, he came and went with her as he might
have done with a man chum of his own age. And when she preferred to
ride _without_ Forsyth it did not occur to Elden that she preferred to
ride _with_ him.
They were soon in the country, and Edith, leading, swung from the road
to a bridle trail that followed the winding of the river. As her
graceful figure drifted on ahead it seemed more than ever reminiscent
of Reenie Hardy. What rides they had had on those foothill trails!
What dippings into the great canyons! What adventures into the spruce
forests! And how long ago it all seemed. That was before he started
on the paper; before he had been in the grocery business, or in the
coal business; back in the long, long past on the ranch in the days
before his father died. Life--how it goes! And had it brought to her
as many changes as to him? And had it, perhaps, brought to her one
change it had not brought to him--a change in the anchor about which
her heart's affection clung? This girl, riding ahead, suggestive in
every curve and pose of Reenie Hardy. . . His eyes were burning with
loneliness.
He knew he was dull that day, and Edith was particularly charming and
vivacious. She coaxed him into conversation a dozen times, but he
answered absent-mindedly. At length she leapt from her horse and
seated herself, facing the river, on a fallen log. Without looking
back she indicated with her hand the space beside her, and Dave
followed and sat down.
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