I miss
the trees. They stood for my childhood and my youth; yes, they stood
for it, so straight--I must go on. Christabel is expecting me.'
'She didn't tell me.'
'No?' Rose questioned without surprise. 'I suppose I shall see you at
tea?' she said.
He nodded and she touched her horse. Something had happened to him as
well as to her and a mass of pain lodged itself in her breast. He was
different, and as though he had suspected the weary quality of her
love he had met her with the same kind, or perhaps with none at all. A
little while ago she was half longing for release from this endless
necessity of controlling herself and him; from the shifts, the
refusals and the reproaches which had gradually become the chief part
of their intercourse; and now he had dared to seem indifferent, though
he had not forgotten to reproach! She could almost feel the healthy
pallor of her face change to a sickly white; her anger chilled and
then stiffened her into a rigidity of body and mind and when she
dismounted she slid down heavily, like a figure made of wood.
The man who took her horse looked at her curiously. Miss Mallett
always had a pleasant word for him and, conscious of his stare, she
forced a smile. She had not ridden for weeks, she told him; she was
tired. He was amused at that. She had been born in the saddle; he
remembered her as a little girl on a Shetland pony and he did not
believe she could ever tire.
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