"Spring, with that nameless fragrance in the air
Which breathes of all things fair,"
sang a young girl riding in the Park. And she smiled to herself as she
guided her mare through the flowering labyrinths. Other notes of the
Southern poet's haunting song stole soundless from her lips; for it was
only her heart that was singing there in the sun, while her silent,
smiling mouth mocked the rushing melody of the birds.
Behind her, powerfully mounted, ambled the belted groom; she was riding
alone in the golden weather because her good friend Selwyn was very busy
in his office downtown, and Gerald, who now rode with her occasionally,
was downtown also, and there remained nobody else to ride with. Also the
horses were to be sent to Silverside soon, and she wanted to use them as
much as possible while the Park was at its loveliest.
She, therefore, galloped conscientiously every morning, sometimes with
Nina, but usually alone. And every afternoon she and Nina drove there,
drinking the freshness of the young year--the most beautiful year of her
life, she told herself, in all the exquisite maturity of her
adolescence.
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