leave her helpless. The habit of years of trusting him assured
her of that. For the instant she had forgotten the cause of her flight.
Then suddenly she remembered it with sickening thought. He who had been
to her a brave fine hero, suffering daily through the carelessness of a
wife who did not understand him, had stepped down from his pedestal and
become the lowest of the low. He had dared to kiss her! He had said he
would marry her--he,--a married man! Her whole soul revolted against him
again, and now she was glad she had run away--glad the horse had taken
her so far--glad she had shown him how terrible the whole thing looked
to her. She was even glad that her father and brother were far away too,
for the present, until she should adjust herself to life once more. How
could she have faced them after what happened? How could she ever live
in the same world with that man again,--that fallen hero? How could she
ever have thought so much of him? She had almost worshipped him, and had
been so pleased when he had seemed to enjoy her company, and
complimented her by telling her she had whiled away a weary hour for
him! And he? He had been meaning--_this_--all the time! He had looked at
her with that thought in his mind! Oh--awful degradation!

There was something so revolting in the memory of his voice and face as
he had told her that she closed her eyes and shuddered as she recalled
it, and once more the tears went coursing down her cheeks and she sobbed
aloud, piteously, her head bowing lower and lower over the pony's neck,
her bright hair falling down about her shoulders and beating against the
animal's breast and knees as he ran, her stiffened fingers clutching his
mane to keep her balance, her whole weary little form drooping over his
neck in a growing exhaustion, her entire being swept by alternate waves
of anger, revulsion and fear.

Perhaps all this had its effect on the beast; perhaps somewhere in his
make-up there lay a spot, call it instinct or what you please, that
vibrated in response to the distress of the human creature he carried.
Perhaps the fact that she was in trouble drew his sympathy, wicked
little willful imp though he usually was. Certain it is that he began to
slacken his pace decidedly, until at last he was walking, and finally
stopped short and turned his head about with a troubled neigh as if to
ask her what was the matter.

The sudden cessation of the motion almost threw her from her seat; and