Thomas Wingfold. Volume II by George MacDonald

It was nearly dark when they arrived again at the lodge. Rachel / opened the gate for them. Without even a THANK YOU, they rode out. / She stood for a moment gazing after them through the dusk, then / turned with a sigh, and went into the kitchen, where her uncle sat / by the fire with a book in his hand.

"How I should like to be as well made as Miss Lingard! " she said, / seating herself by the lamp that stood on the deal-table. "It MUST / be a fine thing to be strong and tall, and able to look this way and / that without turning all your body along with your head, like the / old man that gathers the leeches in Wordsworth's poem. And what it / must be to sit on a horse as she does! You should have seen her go / flying like the very wind across the park! You would have thought / she and her horse were cut out of the same piece. I'm dreadfully / envious, uncle."