'I--I was not thinking of the grey,' she returned. 'Dear Mr. Pulvertoft, I must speak frankly--a girl has so many things to consider, and I am afraid you have made me forget how wrongly and thoughtlessly I have been behaving of late. I cannot help suspecting that you must have some motive in seeking my society in so--so marked a manner.' 'Miss Gittens,' said I, 'I can disguise nothing: I have.' 'And you have not been merely amusing yourself all this time?' 'Before Heaven,' I cried with fervour, 'I have _not_!' 'You are not one of those false men who give their bridle-reins a shake, and ride off with "Adieu for evermore!"--tell me you are not?' I might shake _my_ bridle-reins till I was tired and nothing would come of it unless Brutus was in the humour to depart; so that I was able to assure her with truth that I was not at all that kind of person. 'Then why not let your heart speak?' 'There is such a thing,' I said gloomily, 'as a heart that is gagged.' 'Can no word, no hint of mine loosen the gag?' she wished to know. 'What, you are silent still? Then, Mr. Pulvertoft, though I may seem harsh and cruel in saying it, our pleasant intercourse must end--we must ride together no more!' No more? What would Brutus say to that? I was horrified. 'Miss Gittens,' I said in great agitation, 'I entreat you to unsay those words. I--I am afraid I could not undertake to accept such a dismissal. Surely, after that, you will not insist!' She sighed. 'I am a weak, foolish girl,' she said; 'you are only too able to overcome my judgment. There, Mr. Pulvertoft, look happy again--I relent. You may stay if you will!' You must believe that I felt thoroughly ashamed of myself, for I could not be blind to the encouragement which, though I sought to confine my words to strict truth, I was innocently affording. But, with a horse like mine, what was a man to do? What would you have done yourself? As soon as was prudent, I hinted to Brutus that his confidences had lasted long enough; and as he trotted away with me, he remarked, 'I thought you were never going.' Was he weary of the grey already? My heart leaped. 'Brutus,' I said thickly, 'are you strong enough to bear a great joy?' 'Speak out,' he said, 'and do try to keep those heels out of my ribs.' 'I cannot see you suffer,' I told him, with a sense of my own hypocrisy all the time. 'I must tell you--circumstances have come to my knowledge which lead me to believe that we have both judged Wild Rose too hastily. I am sure that her heart is yours still. She is only longing to tell you that she has never really swerved from her allegiance.' 'It is too late now,' he said, and the back of his head looked inflexibly obstinate; 'we have kept asunder too long.'