nd. The strong, elastic stalks of the tall grain broke their fall
and enabled them to scramble to their feet, dusty, disheveled, but
unhurt, and even unstunned by the shock. Their first instinctive cries
over a damaged hat or ripped skirt were followed by the quick reaction
of childish laughter. They were alone; the very defection of Pedro
consoled them, in its absence of any witness to their disaster; even
their previous slight attitude to each other was forgotten. They groped
their way, pushing and panting, to the road again, where, beholding
the overset buggy with its wheels ludicrously in the air, they suddenly
seized and shook each other, and in an outburst of hilarious ecstasy,
fairly laughed until the tears came into their eyes.

Then there was a breathless silence.

"The stage will be coming by in a moment," composedly said Susy. "Fix
me, dear."

Mary Rogers calmly walked around her friend, bestowing a practical
shake there, a pluck here, completely retying one bow and restoring an
engaging fullness to another, yet critically examining, with her head on
one side, the fascinating result. Then Susy performed the same function
for Mary with equal deliberation and deftness. Suddenly Mary started and
looked up.

"It's coming," she said quickly, "and they've SEEN US."

The expression of the faces of the two girls instantly changed. A
pained dignity and resignation, apparently born of the most harrowing
experiences and controlled only by perfect good breeding, was distinctly
suggested in their features and attitude as they stood patiently by the
wreck of their overturned buggy awaiting the oncoming coach. In sharp
contrast was the evident excitement among the passengers. A few rose
from their seats in their eagerness; as the stage pulled up in the road
beside the buggy four or five of the younger men leaped to the ground.

"Are you hurt, miss?" they gasped sympathetically.

Susy did not immediately reply, but ominously knitted her pretty
eyebrows as if repressing a spasm of pain. Then she said, "Not at all,"
coldly, with the suggestion of stoically concealing some lasting or
perhaps fatal injury, and took the arm of Mary Rogers, who had, in the
mean time, established a touching yet graceful limp.

Declining the proffered assistance of the passengers, they helped each
other into the coach, and freezingly requesting the driver to stop at
Mr. Peyton's gate, maintained a statuesque and impressive silence. At
the g