As the girl looked up and the level
unsmiling gaze met hers, the older woman started back.
"_Santa Vierge_!" she muttered, hastily crossing herself. "She looks
in Purgatory already, with those strange eyes!"
CHAPTER X
"The nights that were days, and the days that were nights,
Griefs and glories and vain delights,
With Fame before us in fancy flights,
We mocked each other and cried 'All's well'!"
LOVE IN BOHEMIA.
Of her first act Arithelli had no fear. She knew that she was safe in
trusting to the skill and training of her horse to accomplish
successfully all the stereotyped movements of the _haute ecole_. She
had only to sit still and look graceful, and guide him through his
paces as he waltzed, turned or knelt. She carried a whip for show, but
she had never used it. A word, a caress had always been enough, and
she would have been beaten herself rather than touch the beautiful
creature that carried her.
In the next act it would be all different. Everything depended on her
own balance and accuracy.
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