Meriweather, riding along the road, saw Hildegarde standing with uplifted face. What a little thing she was under the wide heavens! And how his heart leaped at the sight of her!
He got down from his horse and joined her. "Hello, pretty thing."
"Hello." She was not smiling. Wistful.
"What's the matter?" he demanded.
"Life's a puzzle."
"My dear child, don't talk philosophy on a morning like this. You're missing Harlowe, and I won't have it. Did you ever see such air? Like a thousand cocktails. Let me get your horse, Hildegarde. And we'll have lunch at the inn."
She brightened. Anything to run away from her thoughts. "I'll wait here for you, Merry."
He was off with the dogs after him. Back again, two horses, two dogs, streaming down the hill. A sapphire sky. Clouds racing. Could she leave it?
Merry was in a gay mood. "Am I glad Harlowe's gone? I could shout to the skies."
In spite of her depression she laughed. "Silly."
"I'm not. A man like that hasn't any right upon the earth. He ought to be up in the clouds with the other gods. When you fall in love, Hildegarde, try something human."
"Crispin is human."
"He's too good to be true."
Their horses were off like the wind. Thoughts of the dark library and her conversation with her father receded; thoughts of the farm receded; thoughts of
