The groom marveled at the sudden changes of gait, the gallops that fell
abruptly to a walk with the alterations of mood in the girl's heart, the
pauses that marked a moment of meditation as she watched some green
curving bank, or a plunge of the mad little creek that sent a glory of
spray whitely into the sunlight. It grew late and the shadows of waning
afternoon crept through the park. The crowd had hurried home to escape
the chill of the spring dusk, but she lingered on, reluctant to leave,
and presently left her horse with the groom that she might walk alone
beside the creek in a place that was beautifully wild. About her lay a
narrow strip of young maples and beyond this the wide park road wound at
the foot of a steep wooded cliff. The place was perfectly quiet save for
the splash and babble of the creek.
Several minutes passed. Once she heard her groom speak to the horses,
though she could not see him, but the charm of the place held her. She
raised her eyes from the tumbling water before her and looked off through
the maple tangle. Then she drew back quickly, and clasped her riding-crop
tightly.
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