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staring after David and Jane, a troubled frown between his brows.
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    Chapter VI
    But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath past away a glory from the earth.
    —William Wordsworth
    As Lord Rayleigh was beginning to realize, the gates of childhood were closing behind Jane and David. Even Jane, most oblivious of them all, was aware of changes. Dimly she understood that the old union of Jane-and-David was being threatened and, being Jane, she fought back. And, because other people had no importance to her, she assumed the change was emanating from David. They had always done things together; now he did things she was unable to do. He had reached his full growth of six feet two inches and his body, from hard work and exercise, was lean and hard. Jane felt he was leaving her behind and hated her few inches and lack of strength. She strove all through that summer to prove herself equal to him. Her silent struggle came to a head a week before she was due back at school.
    The Marquis had recently purchased a new horse, an iron-gray stallion with a vicious temper. He wanted the horse primarily as a stud but planned to race him lightly, so he had to be kept in the stable and exercised regularly. It usually fell to David to ride him; very few of the grooms could handle him. Jane had asked to try him once and David had told her curtly that she wouldn't be able to hold him.
    Her eyes had flashed, but she hadn't challenged him. She waited until he was not around one afternoon and then she entered the stable. “Saddle Condottiere for me,” she said imperiously to one of the younger grooms.
    He gaped at her. “But, Lady Jane—"
    "Don't argue with me,” she said, her chin rising ominously, “saddle him.” Centuries of command sounded in her clear voice.
    "Yes, my lady,” the groom mumbled, and went to do her bidding.
    She had been gone ten minutes when David returned. “Mr. David, Mr. David!” Stubbs, one of the senior grooms, hastened to tell him. “Lady Jane has taken Condottiere out."
    "What?” David's head snapped around quickly. “When?"
    "Ten minutes ago."
    There was a white line around David's mouth. “Where did she go?"
    "To the heath, Mr. David."
    "Get me Alexander,” David said briefly, and stood waiting while the black horse was saddled and brought to him. He did not blame anyone for allowing her to ride the gray. He knew Jane well enough to guess what had happened. There were two sharp lines between his brows and he did not look young at all.
    He left the stableyard at a full gallop and came upon Jane five minutes later. She was having a hard time with Condottiere. The gray horse wanted to run and Jane's arms and shoulders ached from trying to hold him to a slow gallop. Once he got hold of the bit she knew she would have a runaway. She was afraid, more for the horse than for herself, and the sound of galloping hooves behind her was very welcome. She gripped the reins tightly and in a minute Alexander was beside her and David had his hand on Condottiere's bridle. The two horses slowed to a walk, then a halt.
    David swung out of the saddle and went to stand at Condottiere's head. “Get down,” he said roughly to Jane. Obediently she slid to the ground and went to take Alexander's reins from him. There was blood on her hands from where the reins had cut them. “Serves you right,” he said tensely, his eyes on those hands. She opened her mouth to speak but he cut across her, “We are going back to the stable. Get up on Alexander.” He waited until she was in the saddle, then mounted the great gray, turned him, and headed toward Heathfield without a backward glance to see if she was following.
    She was. They arrived at the stable together and were met by most of the grooms, led by Tuft. David's mobile mouth was compressed. He waited for Jane to dismount, then said curtly, “Wait for me in the tack room.” He led the gray horse into the stable and the grooms looked tentatively