She turned and put her hand on the pommel, and sprang into the saddle.

He had often seen her make that light, wonderful spring that seated her as if by magic on her horse's back, but in her last weeks of nursing the sick folk she had not been strong enough to do it.

He saw now how much stronger she looked.

The weeks of rest had made her a different woman; there was a fresh colour in her cheek, and the tired lines were all gone.

She looked younger by years than when he saw her last--younger, too, than when he had first seen her, for even then she was weary.