The first bridge we came to--I
was 'sitting easy to a canter' with my foot out of the stirrup and my
leg _over_ the third crutch--a bad habit I learnt from a foreign
friend--and an express train rushed by. Oscar went on abruptly, but I
remained. The next difficulty was at a brook. We ought to have crossed
it together; but Oscar changed his mind at the last moment, so he
remained and I went on. And after that we came to cross-roads, and had
a difference of opinion about which was the right one. That ended in
our coming over together, which made me feel solemn--disheartened, in
fact--and then I thought we should never understand each other and be
friends, so I gave him up. I did not talk much about riding to those
people after that.
"But I wore my summer habit that day, and of course I caught cold. And
when that was nearly well I went downstairs to be civil to some people
who had driven a long way to see me. The drawing-room was damp from
disuse, and the fire had only just been lighted--and of course I caught
cold. When that was better I went for a drive. The wind was east, and
the carriage was open--and of course I caught cold.
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