She presently vanished within, and reappeared before they had time to
be impatient. In her close-clinging habit, with her black braids
securely pinned, a handful of lilies drooping at her waist, and the
whole of her fair young figure invested with a sort of stately
maidenliness, she formed a sufficient contrast to Rose, who, perched
defiantly upon her wicked little steed, looked every inch a rogue.
Mademoiselle DeBerczy's white horse was slim and graceful as became
its owner, who glanced with lady-like apprehension at the dashings and
plungings and other dog-like vagaries of Flip. "Dear me, Rose," she at
last remarked rather nervously, "I can't bear to look at you."
"Then don't look at me!" exclaimed the wild girl, "go on with Edward;
Flip and I are going to make a morning of it."
The young man nothing loth drew in Black Bess beside the milk-white
palfrey, and began to comment upon the beauty of the morning, of the
woods through which they were passing, and, lastly, of an Indian
child, who, straying away from a settlement of wigwams, perched itself
upon a stump, and surveyed the cavalcade with round-eyed interest.
Pages:
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117