At Love's Cost - Page 308/342

Ida inclined her head slightly by way of acknowledgment and adieu, and

without another word rode on towards the gate at the bottom of the

field which opened on to the road. Adonis who had been delighted to

meet his old friend, promptly followed; and, though Maude Falconer

tried her hardest to check him and turn him, he, inwardly laughing at

her efforts, trotted cheerfully beside Rupert, and continued their

conversation. Maude was half mad with mortification, and, quite unable

to leave Ida's hated side, she raised her whip and struck Adonis across

the face. The horse, who had never received such a blow before in his

life, stopped dead short, falling back almost on to his haunches, then

reared straight up and in a moment of temper tried to throw her off;

indeed, she must have fallen but Ida, always cool at such moments,

swept sideways, caught Adonis's bridle and brought him on all fours.

Maude was instantly jerked forward on to the horse's neck in a

humiliating fashion, but recovering her seat, sat trembling with

passion.

It was impossible not to pity her, and Ida in her gentlest and quietest

of voices, said: "I will wait here, will not go through the gate until

your groom comes up. Your horse will be quite quiet then. If I might

venture to say so, I think it would be wise not to strike him across

the head; very few horses can stand it; and this one is high-bred and

exceptionally spirited--"

She was stopped by Maude's scornful laugh.

"Really, I ought to feel very much obliged to you, Miss Heron!" she

said; "and my sense of obligation is almost as great as my amazement at

your frankness--and assurance! May I ask you to be good enough to

release my horse's reins?"

Ida's hand fell from the reins, and her face grew crimson; but before

she could have retorted, even if she had intended doing so, Maude

struck the horse again; it turned and dashed across the field, kicking

and plunging violently, with Maude swaying perilously in the saddle.

Ida waited until the groom--it was Pottinger--had gained his mistress's

side and got hold of the horse; then, with no thought of bravado but

simply with the desire to get away from the spot, she put Rupert at the

gate and leapt into the road.