I shall wear it on my
little finger."
She dropped his hand quickly, for at that moment Stafford rode round
the bend of the drive. His face was grave and almost stern in its
preoccupation, but he caught sight of them, and raised his hat, then
turned his horse and rode up to the terrace.
"Good-morning, Stafford," exclaimed Howard. "Where have you been?
Hallo! Anything happened? You're coated all over with mud: had a fall?"
He nodded carelessly as he turned to the beautiful girl, lying back now
and looking up at his handsome face with an air of languid
indifference.
"What a lovely day, Miss Falconer! Where are all the others? Are you
not going for a drive, on the lake, somewhere?"
"I have just been asking Mr. Howard to take me for a row," she said,
"but he has refused."
Stafford laughed and glanced at his watch.
"I can quite believe it: he's the laziest wretch in existence. If
you'll transfer the offer to me, we'll go after lunch. By George,
there's the bell!"
"Thanks!" she murmured, and she rose with her slow grace. "I'd better
get into an appropriate costume. Mr. Howard, what will you bet me that
it does not rain before we start.
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