Just A Girl by Charles Garvice

Esmeralda waited. She was startled, but not frightened; she did not forget that the horses were under her care, and she held them firmly, and looked straight between their ears. The healthy paleness of her face had flushed, but the color had gone again; the long lashes veiled her eyes.

It was some time before Trafford spoke again; it seemed a long time even to him. His own action and his own words had surprised him almost as much as they had surprised Esmeralda; he was full of remorse, for it seemed to him that he had taken advantage of her youth and innocence and had acted and spoken as he would not have done if she had been a girl of his own class and set. At last he said in a grave voice: