"That is my name,and those people ahead of us know it already.""You are called CLEMENTINA,--but you are not merciful!""You are very wrong,for you might see that Mr.Shipley has twice checked his horse that he might hear what you are saying,and Phemie is always showing Mrs.Ashwood something in the landscape behind us."All this was the more hopeless and exasperating to Grant since in the young girl's speech and manner there was not the slightest trace of coquetry or playfulness.He could not help saying a little bitterly:"I don't think that any one would imagine from your manner that you were receiving a declaration.""But they might imagine from yours that you had the right to quarrel with me,--which would be worse.""We cannot part like this!It is too cruel to me.""We cannot part otherwise without the risk of greater cruelty.""But say at least,Clementina,that I have no rival.There is no other more favored suitor?""That is so like a man--and yet so unlike the proud one I believed you to be.Why should a man like you even consider such a possibility?If I were a man I know I couldn't."She turned upon him a glance so clear and untroubled by either conscious vanity or evasion that he was hopelessly convinced of the truth of her statement,and she went on in a slightly lowered tone,"You have no right to ask me such a question,--but perhaps for that reason I am willing to answer you.There is none.Hush!For a good rider you are setting a poor example to the others,by crowding me towards the bank.Go forward and talk to Phemie,and tell her not to worry Mrs.Ashwood's horse nor race with her;I don't think he's quite safe,and Mrs.Ashwood isn't accustomed to using the Spanish bit.
I suppose I must say something to Mr.Shipley,who doesn't seem to understand that I'M acting as chaperon,and YOU as captain of the party."She cantered forward as she spoke,and Grant was obliged to join her sister,who,mounted on a powerful roan,was mischievously exciting a beautiful quaker-colored mustang ridden by Mrs.Ashwood,already irritated by the unfamiliar pressure of the Eastern woman's hand upon his bit.The thick dust which had forced the party of twenty to close up in two solid files across the road compelled them at the first opening in the roadside fence to take the field in a straggling gallop.Grant,eager to escape from his own discontented self by doing something for others,reined in beside Euphemia and the fair stranger.
"Let me take your place until Mrs.Ashwood's horse is quieted,"he half whispered to Euphemia.
"Thank you,--and I suppose it does not make any matter to Clem who quiets mine,"she said,with provoking eyes and a toss of her head worthy of the spirited animal she was riding.
"She thinks you quite capable of managing yourself and even others,"he replied with a playful glance at Shipley,who was riding somewhat stiffly on the other side.
"Don't be too sure,"retorted Phemie with another dangerous look;"I may give you trouble yet."
They were approaching the first undulation of the russet plain they had emerged upon,--an umbrageous slope that seemed suddenly to diverge in two defiles among the shaded hills.Grant had given a few words of practical advice to Mrs.Ashwood,and shown her how to guide her mustang by the merest caressing touch of the rein upon its sensitive neck.He had not been sympathetically inclined towards the fair stranger,a rich and still youthful widow,although he could not deny her unquestioned good breeding,mental refinement,and a certain languorous thoughtfulness that was almost melancholy,which accented her blonde delicacy.But he had noticed that her manner was politely reserved and slightly constrained towards the Harcourts,and he had already resented it with a lover's instinctive loyalty.He had at first attributed it to a want of sympathy between Mrs.Ashwood's more intellectual sentimentalities and the Harcourts'undeniable lack of any sentiment whatever.But there was evidently some other innate antagonism.He was very polite to Mrs.Ashwood;she responded with a gentlewoman's courtesy,and,he was forced to admit,even a broader comprehension of his own merits than the Harcourt girls had ever shown,but he could still detect that she was not in accord with the party.
"I am afraid you do not like California,Mrs.Ashwood?"he said pleasantly."You perhaps find the life here too unrestrained and unconventional?"She looked at him in quick astonishment."Are you quite sincere?
Why,it strikes me that this is just what it is NOT.And I have so longed for something quite different.From what I have been told about the originality and adventure of everything here,and your independence of old social forms and customs,I am afraid Iexpected the opposite of what I've seen.Why,this very party--except that the ladies are prettier and more expensively gotten up--is like any party that might have ridden out at Saratoga or New York.""And as stupid,you would say."