On the day following he received a note; it said simply:
"Dear Norman: Can you join me in a ride? I have a new horse which
they tell me is too spirited. I shall not be afraid to try it if
you are with me.
"Yours, Philippa."
He could not refuse--indeed, he never thought of refusing--why should
he? The beautiful girl who asked this kindness from him was his old
friend and playfellow. He hastened to Verdun House and found Philippa
waiting for him.
"I knew you would come," she said. "Lady Peters said you would be
engaged. I thought differently."
"You did well to trust me," he returned, laughingly; "it would require a
very pressing engagement to keep me from the pleasure of attending you."
He had thought her perfect on the previous evening, in the glitter of
jewels and the gorgeous costume of amber and while; yet, if possible,
she looked even better on this evening. Her riding-habit was neat and
plain, fitting close to the perfect figure, showing every gracious line
and curve.
Philippa L'Estrange possessed that rare accomplishment among women, a
graceful "seat" on horseback.
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