“Can’t you forget her for an instant?” exclaimed Barbara.  “You haven’t been at all the same since you came back from the mountains!  Once we were always together.  Now I never see you unless I come over here; and no matter what I do, you don’t seem to care.”

Layson was uneasy.  He had been aware, for a long time, that, sooner or later, a complete understanding of his changed feelings toward this girl, must, in some way, be accomplished.  Now seemed a good time for it, yet he hesitated at the thought of it.  But the thing had to be gone through with.  “I know I used to play the tyrant, Barbara; but it wasn’t a pleasant role, and I was always half-ashamed of it.”

The girl flared into a passion.  “What do you mean?”

“Barbara, I have had no right to go so far, no right to ask so much of you.  From the bottom of my heart I beg forgiveness.  Let us forget it all and just be friends again.”  And, even as he spoke, his eyes were wandering toward the girl whom Queen Bess had so utterly surrendered to.  The mare, known since she had first been saddled, as a terror to all riders, was carrying her as gently as the veriest country hack had ever borne an old lady from the farm to market.

Barbara saw where his attention was, and resentment thrilled her.  “Friends?  Never!  Frank Layson, I believe I hate you!”

“Oh, very well,” said he, plainly not too much impressed, “if you want to be unreasonable, why, of course—­”

The girl was frightened at the length to which she had permitted her ill-temper to carry her.  “Oh, no, Frank,” she hastily corrected, “I didn’t mean that.  Of course I am your friend.”

“Thank you, Barbara,” said he, with a calmness which was maddening to her.  “I am sure we understand each other, now.”  And then, still further maddening her:  “I must go now, and look after Madge and dear Queen Bess.  I never should forgive myself if anything should happen to the girl.  But nothing will.  See how splendidly she rides!”

The girl upon the horse, as if conscious of his anxiety about her, now turned her mount back toward the field-end where the onlookers were loosely grouped and came toward them at a slow and gentle canter—­a gait which none had ever seen Queen Bess take before, when a stranger was upon her back.  She leaped from the mare by Layson’s side, and Neb, ever anxious for the welfare of his equine darling, began work without delay at rubbing Queen Bess down.

“Reckon you’ll never forgive me,” Madge apologized to Layson, “but I just couldn’t help it.  Never even saw a mare like her, afore.  My pony’s no-whar alongside of her.  I felt like an angel sittin’ on a cloud an’ sailin’ straight to heaven!” She turned and petted the black beauty.  “Oh, you darling!”

“Got to take her in, now,” Neb said, preparing to lead the mare away.  He spoke apologetically as if the girl had rights which, now, should be consulted.  He had never made a like concession in the past to anyone except his master.