"Oh, in that sense, all men are legitimate game, and I shall chaff as
many as possible, out of spite that I was not a man."
"You would make a good one--you are so devoid of sentiment and so
independent."
"And yet within a week I think a certain gentleman was inclined to
think me sentimental, aesthetic, intense, a victim of ideals and
devotional rhapsodies."
"Oh, ye gods! Here, waiter, bring me my dessert, and let me escape,"
cried Graydon.
"Did you say I was to be ready at five?" she asked, sweetly.
"Yes, and bring down articles of a truce, and we'll sign them in red
ink."
An hour later she heard the gallop of a horse, and saw him riding
away. "She shan't mount the animal," he had thought, "till I learn
more about him and give him all the running he wants to-day. She has
a heavy enough score against me as it is, and I'll not employ another
brute to make things worse."
He learned more fully what he had discovered before, that she would
have her hands full in managing the horse, and he gave him a run that
covered him with foam and tested his breathing. At four he galloped
back to the station to see if the saddle had arrived, but found that
even his skill and strength were not sufficient to make the animal
approach the engine. Shouting to the baggage-man to bring the expected
articles to the stable, he was soon there and made another experiment.
A hostler brought him a blanket, which he strapped around his waist,
and mounted again in a lady's style. It was at once evident that the
horse had never been ridden by a woman. He reared, kicked, and plunged
around frightfully, and Graydon had to clutch the mane often to keep
his seat. Madge had speedily joined him, and looked with absorbed
interest, at times laughing, and again imploring Graydon to dismount.
This he at last he did, the perspiration pouring from his face.
Resigning the trembling and wearied horse to a stable-boy, he came
toward the young girl, mopping his brow and exclaiming: "It will never
do at all. He is ugly as sin. No woman should ride him, not even a
squaw."
"Bah, Graydon! he did not throw you, although he had you at every
disadvantage. I'm not in the least afraid. Has the saddle come?"
"Yes; but I protest, Madge. Here, Dr. Sommers" (who was approaching),
"lay your commands on this rash girl."
"If Dr. Sommers says I'm rash he doesn't understand my case, and I
refuse to employ him," cried Madge. Then she added, sweetly: "If
I break any bones, doctor, I'll be your very humble and obedient
servant. It's half-past four, and I'll be ready as soon as you are,
Graydon. No backing out. You might as well warn me against the peril
of a rocking-chair;" and she went to put on her habit.
"Heaven help us!" said Graydon to the doctor. "We're in a scrape.
She's so resolute that I believe she would go alone. What would you
do? Hang it all! the people of the house have got an inkling of what's
up; some are gathering near, and the windows are full of heads."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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