p respecting him; he is my one relative,
and I love him dearly."

"Of course," said Elsie, "and I mean to be his cousin, too; but it is my
cousinly privilege to laugh at him."

"Perhaps he will not be content with a cousinly regard," said Mrs.
Harrington, mysteriously.

Elizabeth glanced quickly at Elsie, with a little trouble in her face,
but the girl laughed, and replied--

"Oh yes, he will; Bessie is his ideal--he will never think of poor
little me."

"Family affection is so sweet!" added Mrs. Harrington. Elsie made a
grimace, and hastened to change the conversation, for there was nothing
she dreaded so much as the widow's attempt at romance and sentiment.

CHAPTER III.

A FRIGHT AND A RESCUE.

For some time the ladies rode on in silence. Then Elsie broke into a fit
of ecstasy over the horses.

"They are so perfectly matched," she said. "Brother Grant needn't have
been doubtful about them; he sha'n't persuade you to change them, shall
he?"

"They are beautiful creatures," Bessie observed, absently.

"Naturally, Mr. Mellen was anxious that they should be entirely safe,"
said Mrs. Harrington, theatrically, "for he has trusted his dearest
treasures--his sister and his betrothed wife--to me; and if there is
danger, it is for them as well as me."

"What a pretty speech!" said Elsie. "I know you got it out of a novel!"

Elsie had a gay scarf wound about her neck, and began complaining of the
warmth.

"I would not take it off," Mrs. Harrington urged, "you will be certain
to get cold."

"There is no danger," replied Elsie; "I shall smother, wrapped up in
this way."

"But you must keep it on!"

"Indeed, I won't; there!"

They had a playful contention for an instant, then Elsie snatched the
scarf from her neck with a triumphant laugh, and held it up beyond Mrs.
Harrington's reach.

A sudden rush of wind carried the light fabric out of her hand, and it
sailed away like a gorgeous streamer. Elsie gave a little cry, but it
was frozen on her lips. One of the horses had been restive from the
first. The scarf floated over his head, curved downward, and one end got
entangled with his bridle. The shy, spirited creature gave a wild bound,
communicated like terror to his companion, and away the frenzied pair
dashed, taking the coachman so completely by surprise, that he was
helpless as a child. It was one of those brief occurrences which pass
like lightning to lookers-on, but seem an eternity to the pe