n immense charger, and whistling gaily.
At a second glance Eleanor sees that this masculine young woman is
strikingly attractive, her style distinctly original, her figure,
though large, splendidly proportioned. She has shiningly white teeth
under her curling lips--full, red, and smiling. Her eyes are large,
dark, and brilliant, flashing like twin stars under a level brow, with
black, almost bushy eyebrows.

Her complexion is rich and clear, her hair braided in masses under a
man's hat. A gun slung over her shoulder gives her a sporting
appearance.

She looks curiously at Eleanor's fragile beauty--the contrast between
them is marked.

The whistle dies on the stranger's lips, she sets her mouth, averts her
head, lashes her steed, and gallops by--never halting till out of sight
of the slim woman on Braye du Valle.

"I wonder who she can be?" thinks Eleanor, watching the departing
figure so intently that she never notices Carol return with the dog
till he speaks:

"What are you looking at?"

His eyes follow the direction of her gaze, but discern only a cloud of
dust in the distance.

"A stranger," cries Eleanor excitedly, "a white woman riding alone."

"Really! What was she like?"

"Big, and bold, and handsome. The sort of 'knock you down' woman who
balances weights at music-halls in tights. Giddy and Bertie took me
once to a box at the Empire; she reminded me of the strong lady in
spangles. A magnificent creature, like a splendid animal."

"Oh!" ejaculates Quinton.

"Couldn't you find out who she is, Carol; I would love to know? She
gave me such an odd look from her great brave eyes, then, to my
astonishment, galloped madly away as if I were going to eat her. She
was armed, too, so need not have been afraid, though I don't look much
like a savage, do I?"

"I can't see that we need trouble about her."

"She raised my curiosity."

"Simply because of her good looks."

"She was the strangest woman I ever saw. I should like to know more of
her."

Quinton jags his horse's mouth angrily, and, calling the dog, rides
forward to stop the discussion.

"He has no thought for any woman but me," mentally ejaculates Eleanor,
as she follows on Braye du Valle.

She is perfectly satisfied with her lot as she rides beside him, gazing
at his handsome profile.

Some sombre-hued birds on the ground fly into the air as they approach.
The transformation from dark feathers to brilliant yellow plumage as
they