ed her where her hat
was, and she said it was back there, but it didn't make no difference,
she wanted to get home. And when we were driving on here I told her as
how I see'd the horse, and I asked if it wasn't one of White's, and she
said, 'Yes, it was,' and I was a-going to ask where she was thrown, but
she seemed sort of faint, and, sure enough, just as we got here away she
went. I always says women-folk ought not to be let on horse-back, she
might have broke her neck; like as not----"

"You have been very kind," Tristrem answered, "very kind, indeed."

During the entire scene he had not said a word. The spectacle of Viola
fainting on the roadside, the fear that she might be maimed, the trouble
at her pallor--these things had tied his tongue; and even now, as he
spoke, his voice was not assured, and a hand with which he fumbled in
his waistcoat trembled so that the roll of bills which he drew out fell
on the porch at his feet. He stooped and picked it up.

"If Mrs. Raritan were here, she would thank you as I do," he continued.
"I wish--" and he was about to make some present, but the man drew back.

"That's all right, I don't want no pay for that."

"I beg your pardon," Tristrem answered, "I know you do not. Tell me, are
you married?"

The man laughed.

"Yes, I am, and I got the biggest boy you ever see. He's going on four
years and he weighs a ton."

"I wish you would do me a favor. Let me make him a little present."

But even to this the man would not listen. He was reluctant to accept so
much as thanks. Having done what good he could, he was anxious to go his
way--the sort of man that one has to visit the seashore to find, and
who, when found, is as refreshing as the breeze.

As he left the porch, he looked back. "Here's the doctor," he said, and
passed on into the night.

While the physician visited the patient, Tristrem paced the sitting-room
counting the minutes till he could have speech with him, himself. And
when at last he heard the stairs creak, he was out in the hall, prepared
to question and intercept. The physician was most reassuring. There was
nothing at all the matter. By morning Miss Raritan would be up and
about. She had had a shock, no doubt. She was upset, and a trifle
nervous, but all she needed was a good night's rest, with a chop and a
glass of claret to help her to it. If sleep were elusive, then a
bromide. But that was all. If she had been seventy a tumble like that
might have do