ll her unruly life,
had she yielded obedience to any. No discipline had ever tamed her. She
had been free, free as air, and she had not the vaguest intention of
submitting herself to the authority of anyone. The bare idea was
unthinkably repugnant to her, foreign to her whole nature.

So, with a fierce disgust, she cast from her all memory of that brief
message that had come to her from the man who called himself her husband,
who had actually dared to treat her as one having the right to control
her actions. She could be a thousand times more arrogant than he when
occasion served, and she had not the faintest intention of allowing
herself to be fettered by any man's tyranny.

Swiftly the days of that splendid summer flew by. She scarcely knew how
she spent them, but she was always in the open air, and almost invariably
with Jerry. She missed him considerably when he returned to Oxford, but
the hunting season was at hand, and soon engrossed all her thoughts. Old
Squire Grimshaw was the master, and Nan and her father followed his
hounds three days in every week. People had long since come to acquiesce
in the absence of Nan's husband. Many of them had almost forgotten that
the girl was married, since Nan herself so persistently ignored the fact.
Gossip upon the subject had died down for lack of nourishment. And Nan
pursued her reckless way untrammelled as of yore.

The week before Christmas saw Jerry once more at the Hall. He was as
ardent a follower of the hounds as was Nan, and many were the breakneck
gallops in which they indulged before a spell of frost put an end to this
giddy pastime. Christmas came and went, leaving the lake frozen to a
thickness of several inches, leaving Nan and the ever-faithful Jerry
cutting figures of extraordinary elaboration on the ice.

The Hunt Ball had been fixed to take place on the sixth of January, and,
in preparation for this event, Nan and some of her sisters were busily
engaged beforehand in decking the Town Hall of the neighbourhood with
evergreens and bunting. Jerry's assistance in this matter was, of course,
invaluable, and when the important day arrived, he and Nan spent the
whole afternoon in sliding about the floor to improve the surface.

So absorbing was this occupation that the passage of time was quite
unnoticed by either of them till Nan at length discovered to her dismay
that she had missed the train by which she had meant to return.

To walk back meant a trudge of f