The Black Benedicts by Anita Charles

yourself responsible for the exercising? ”
    “ Oh, no, not me! ” Mallory sounded quite genuinely horrified by the bare idea. “ I couldn ’ t ride a horse like that—it would be much too strong for me—but I do admire it all the same. ”
    “ How much do you really know about horses? ” Raife inquired, looking at her curiously.
    “ I ’ ve told you—quite a lot. ”
    “ But you wouldn ’ t care to ride this one? ”
    “ No; but I ’ d ride the chestnut. ”
    “ Have you any clothes with you? ”
    “ I ’ ve got jodhpurs. ”
    “ Good! Then you shall have your wish, and one day you shall ride Shamrock. I ’ m getting a pony for Serena, and the two of you can get some exercise that way. ”
    “ I think that ’ s a very nice idea, ” Mallory told him, pleased, and Serena of course was delighted. Adrian looked on at them both as if he approved because they so obviously approved, and it was his wish that they should both be happy.

 
    CHAPTER NINE
    T he afternoon drive through a countryside coming alive with all the delights of Spring was, Mallory found, most enjoyable. She was a little surprised that Adrian drove so well, and that he seemed to have so much more confidence in charge of a car than he did at any other time—save, of course, when he was playing his piano—and also because he already looked younger than when she had seen him first. His eyes held none of the vagueness she had first surmised in them, and his smile was quick, and warm, and interested. Even to Serena he was much more affable, and she succeeded in amusing him at times just as much as she did Mallory.
    The house they were to visit lay tucked away in a fold of steeply undulating country. Around it in the summer there would be golden fields of w heat and every other sort of grain, and above it rose wooded heights. Below it a river twisted and sparkled in the c hanging light, and beyond the river there were green water-meadows w here the peaceful cattle browsed.
    Already the sap was bubbling in the bare branches of the trees, and in some cases Mallory could almost imagine a film of green overhanging them. A lark soared into the air and well-nigh burst its little throat with song when they slowed down to negotiate an unexpected sharp turn w hich actually brought them to the white gates of the house, beyond which rose twisted Tudor chimneys.
    “ This, ” said Mallory, “ is another very old house, isn ’ t it? ”
    “ Old, yes, but not so old as Morven, ” Adrian told her, “ and of course not nearly so big. In fact it ’ s just an enlarged and fairly recently modernized farmhouse, which was left to me by my great-aunt. ”
    “ But you ’ ve never lived here? ”
    “ No, never. I did plan to live here—once ... ”
    His voice trailed away, and Mallory thought it wisest to say no more on that subject, for the time being at any rate. Instead she didn ’ t wait for him to open the car door but got down and assisted Serena to alight. Serena had not neglected to bring Belinda with her, and she was e xperiencing some difficulty in grabbing her by her always rather slippery middle and attaching a lead to her collar, to prevent her from wandering off and getting lost.
    The house was unoccupied, even by a caretaker, and no sooner were they inside it than Mallory realized that it was badly neglected, although it possessed great possibilities. The floors were all of solid oak, and most of them had a slight list, and there were deep-set windows with diamond-paned lattices. The fire-places were huge and open, and the ceilings crossed by heavy beams. In the room which had once been used as the dining - room there was some fine linenfold panelling, and the drawing-room at that hour of the day had a lovely light from two windows which faced each other at opposite ends.
    Mallory looked about her with appreciation, and Adrian watched her as if her reactions to what she saw were important to him just then. Serena raced about what had once