CHAPTER XXXVI

A Lady driving a pair of greys was noticed by Richard in his rides and
walks. She passed him rather obviously and often. She was very
handsome; a bold beauty, with shining black hair, red lips, and eyes not
afraid of men. The hair was brushed from her temples, leaving one of
those fine reckless outlines which the action of driving, and the pace,
admirably set off. She took his fancy. He liked the air of petulant
gallantry about her, and mused upon the picture, rare to him, of a
glorious dashing woman. He thought, too, she looked at him. He was not
at the time inclined to be vain, or he might have been sure she did.
Once it struck him she nodded slightly.

He asked Adrian one day in the park--who she was.

"I don't know her," said Adrian. "Probably a superior priestess of
Paphos."

"Now that's my idea of Bellona," Richard exclaimed. "Not the fury they
paint, but a spirited, dauntless, eager-looking creature like that."

"Bellona?" returned the wise youth. "I don't think her hair was black.
Red, wasn't it? I shouldn't compare her to Bellona; though, no doubt,
she's as ready to spill blood. Look at her! She does seem to scent
carnage. I see your idea. No; I should liken her to Diana emerged from
the tutorship of Master Endymion, and at nice play among the gods.
Depend upon it--they tell us nothing of the matter--Olympus shrouds the
story--but you may be certain that when she left the pretty shepherd she