. Physical
perfection, of necessity, provoked in him a peculiar envy and delight.
And nature appeared to have taken ingenious pleasure, not only in
conferring an unusual degree of beauty upon his companion, but in
finishing each detail of her person with unstinted grace. For a while
the young man lost himself in contemplation of that charming ear and
partially averted face. Then resolutely he bestowed his attention upon
the horses again, finding such contemplation slightly enervating to his
moral sense.

"Yes, return journeys are generally rather a nuisance, I suppose," he
said, "though my experience of that particular form of nuisance is
limited. I have not been outward-bound often enough to know much of the
regret of being homeward-bound. And yet, I own, I should not much mind
driving on and on everlastingly on a dreamy afternoon like this,
and--and as I find myself just now--driving on and seeking some El
Dorado--of the spirit, I mean, not of the pocket--seeking the Fortunate
Isles that lie beyond the sunset. For it would be not a little
fascinating to give one's accustomed self, and all that goes to make up
one's accepted identity, the slip--to drive clean out of one's old
circumstances and find new heavens, a new earth, and a new personality
elsewhere. What do you say, Helen, shall we try it?"

But Helen sat immobile, her face averted, listening intently, revolving
many things in her mind, meditating how and when most advantageously to
speak.

"It would be such an amiable and graceful experiment to try on my own
people, too, wouldn't it?" the young man continued, with a sudden
change of tone. "And I am so eminently fitted to lose myself in a crowd
without fear of recognition, just the person for a case of mistaken
identity!"

"Do not say such things, Richard, please. They distress me," Madame de
Vallorbes put in quickly. "And, believe me, I have no quarrel with the
return journey in this case. At Brockhurst I could fancy myself to have
found the Fortunate Isles of which you spoke just now. I have been very
happy there--too happy, perhaps, and therefore, to-day, the whip has
come down across my back, just to remind me."

"Ah! now you say the painful things," Dick interrupted. "Pray
don't--I--I don't like them."

Madame de Vallorbes turned her head and looked at him with the
strangest expression.

"My metaphor was not out of place. Do you imagine horses are the only
animals a man drives, _mon beau cousin_?