world to entertain the smallest suspicion of the hopes entertained on her account. She thought a good deal of the coming guest as the days went by—thought of him with bitterness, with aversion, with mistrust, but in the light of a possible husband—never for a single instant. It was the day before the stranger was expected, and Monica, as the sun was sinking in the sky, was riding alone in the pine wood that surrounded the Castle. She was grave and pre-occupied, as she had been for the week past, haunted [39]by the presage of coming sorrow and change. Her face was pale and sad, yet there was a wonderful depth of sweetness in its expression of wistful melancholy. The setting sun, slanting through the ruddy trunks of the tall pines, shone full upon her, lighting her golden hair, and making an aureole of glory round her head, showing off with peculiar clear distinctness the graceful outline of her supple figure and the beauty of the horse she rode. [39] She was in a very thoughtful mood, so absent and pre-occupied as to be quite lost to outside impressions, when Guy suddenly swerved and reared, with a violence that would have unseated a less practised rider. Monica was not in the least alarmed, but the movement aroused her from her reverie, and she was quickly made [40]aware of what had frightened the horse. [40] A tall, broad-shouldered young man stepped forward, and laid a hand upon Guy’s bridle, lifting his hat at the same time, and disclosing a broad brow, with a sweeping wave of dark hair lying across it. “I beg a thousand pardons; I believe I frightened your horse. He is evidently unused to the sight of trespassers. I trust you have not been alarmed.” Monica smiled at the notion; her face had been somewhat set and cold till the apology had been made. The stranger had no right to be there, certainly, but his frank admission of the fact went far to palliate the crime. She allowed herself to smile, and the smile was in itself a revelation. [41] [41] “It does not matter,” she said quietly. “I know the wood is perplexing; but if you keep bearing to the west you will find the road before long. No, I was not frightened, thank you. Good afternoon.” She bent her head slightly, and the stranger uncovered again. He was smiling now,
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