As Shirley turned toward him he urged his horse over the springy turf.
"A pity to disturb the picture, Miss Claiborne! A thousand pardons! But I really wished to see whether the figure could come out of the canvas.

Now that I have dared to make the test, pray do not send me away." Her horse turned restlessly and brought her face to face with Chauvenet.
"Steady, Fanny! Don't come near her, please--" this last to Chauvenet, who had leaped down and put out his hand to her horse's bridle.

She had the true horsewoman's pride in caring for herself and her eyes flashed angrily for a moment at Chauvenet's proffered aid.

A man might open a door for her or pick up her handkerchief, but to touch her horse was an altogether different business.

The pretty, graceful mare was calm in a moment and arched her neck contentedly under the stroke of Shirley's hand.
"Beautiful! The picture is even more perfect, Mademoiselle!" "Fanny is best in action, and splendid when she runs away.