At Love's Cost

Sir Stephen looked across the table at the stalwart, graceful frame;

but he said nothing: there was no need, for his eyes were eloquent of

love and admiration.

Stafford changed into riding things soon after breakfast, went down to

the stables and had Adonis saddled. Davis superintended the operation

and the stablemen edged round to watch. Davis expressed his approval as

Stafford mounted and went off on a splendid creature, remarking as he

started: "Beautiful mouth, Davis!"

"Yes, Pottinger," said Davis, succinctly, "he's worthy of him. That's

what I call 'hands' now. Dash my aunt if you'd find it easy to match

the pair of 'em! There's a class about both that you don't often see.

If you'll step inside my little place, Mr. Pottinger, we'll drink your

guv'nor's health. I like his shape, I like his style; and I'm counted a

bit of a judge. He's a gentleman, and a high-bred 'n at that."

Stafford rode down the winding drive at which the gardeners were at

work on borders and shrubberies, and on to the road. The air was like

champagne. The slight breeze just ruffled the lake on which the sun was

glittering; Stafford was conscious of a strange feeling of eagerness,

of quickly thrilling vitality which was new to him. He put it down to

the glorious morning, to the discovery of the affection of his father,

to the good horse that stepped as lightly as an Arab, and carried him

as if he were a feather; and yet all the while he knew that these did

not altogether account for the electric eagerness, the "joy of living"

which possessed him.

He pulled up for a moment at The Woodman Inn to thank Mr. Groves for

the port, and that gentleman came out, as glad to see him as if he were

an old friend.

"Don't mention it, sir," he said. "I thought a long time before I sent

it, because I wasn't sure that Sir Stephen and you might think it a

liberty; but I needn't have done so, I know now. And it was kind of Sir

Stephen to send me a note with the sherry. It was like a gentleman, if

you'll excuse me saying so, sir."

Stafford rode over the hill and along the road by the stream, and as he

rode he looked round him eagerly and keenly. In fact, as if he were

scouting. But that for which he was looking so intently did not appear;

his spirits fell--though the sun was still shining--and he sighed

impatiently, and putting Adonis through the stream, cantered over the

moor at the foot of the hills. Suddenly he heard the bark of a dog, and

looking eagerly in the direction of the sound, he saw Ida Heron walking

quickly round the hill, with Donald and Bess scampering in front of

her.