for you to ride," he exclaimed, as the hot
creature, with shudders of defiance rippling her flanks, lapsed into
sullen subjection.

"It's only because I don't ride her enough," Bessy panted. "That new
groom is ruining her mouth."

"You must not ride her alone, then."

"I shall not let that man ride her."

"I say you must not ride her alone."

"It's ridiculous to have a groom at one's heels!"

"Nevertheless you must, if you ride Impulse."

Their eyes met, and she quivered and yielded like the horse. "Oh, if you
say so--" She always hugged his brief flashes of authority.

"I do say so. You promise me?"

"If you like----"

* * * * *

Amherst had made an attempt to occupy himself with the condition of
Lynbrook, one of those slovenly villages, without individual character
or the tradition of self-respect, which spring up in America on the
skirts of the rich summer colonies. But Bessy had never given Lynbrook a
thought, and he realized the futility of hoping to interest her in its
mongrel population of day-labourers and publicans so soon after his
glaring failure at Westmore. The sight of the village irritated him
whenever he passed through the Lynbrook gates, but having perforce
accepted the situation of prince consort, without voice in the
government, he tried to put himself out of relation with all the
questions which had hitherto engrossed him, and to see life simply as a
spectator. He could even conceive that, under certain conditions, there
might be compensations in the passive attitude; but unfortunately these
conditions were not such as the life at Lynbrook presented.

The temporary cessation of Bessy's week-end parties had naturally not
closed her doors to occasional visitors, and glimpses of the autumnal
animation of Long Island passed now and then across the Amhersts'
horizon. Blanche Carbury had installed herself at Mapleside, a
fashionable colony half-way between Lynbrook and Clifton, and even
Amherst, unused as he was to noting the seemingly inconsecutive
movements of idle people, could not but remark that her visits to his
wife almost invariably coincided with Ned Bowfort's cantering over
unannounced from the Hunt Club, where he had taken up his autumn
quarters.

There was something very likeable about Bowfort, to whom Amherst was
attracted by the fact that he was one of the few men of Bessy's circle
who knew what was going on in the outer world. Throughout an exi