s sake, take a pull!" she struck her mare sharply with the whip,
and sent her at it as fast as she could lay legs to the ground. The
consequence was the mare took off too soon, and the pair landed in the
next field somewhat in a heap. Jim was over and off his horse in a
minute, and at once came to the discomfited fair's assistance. It is
seldom that a lady shows to advantage after a regular "crumpler," the
story of Arabella Churchill notwithstanding; nor, for the matter of
that, do men either look the better for the process. No real harm
having been done, the ludicrous side of the situation generally
presents itself; but Sylla was certainly an exception. Although her
hat was broken, her habit woefully torn and mud-stained, nobody could
have looked at her somewhat flushed face and flashing dark eyes without
admitting that she was a very pretty girl even "in ruins."

"No, thanks; I am not in the least hurt, Captain Bloxam," she replied,
as Jim helped her to her feet; "but I could cry with vexation. I had
set my heart upon catching those two; but now," she continued, with a
comical little grimace, "I have got to first catch my mare."

With the assistance of Mr. Sartoris, who, taking Jim's advice, had
followed at a more sedate pace, this was soon done; and Sylla, having
rectified her toilette as far as circumstances permitted, was once more
in the saddle. That she presented a rather dilapidated and woebegone
appearance, nobody could be more conscious than herself; but, as a
woman always does under such affliction, she put the best face she
could upon it.

"I am looking a dreadful guy," she said; "and it is very good of you
two not to laugh at me. I dare not even think of my hat, for nobody
ever did, nor ever will, succeed in straightening that article into any
semblance of its former shape when it has been once stove in. I have
only one thing to be thankful for. Do you know what that is?"

"That you are not hurt in any way," replied Jim.

"Hurt!" she rejoined, with a contemptuous shrug of her shoulders; "I
never thought of that. Can you guess, Mr. Sartoris?"

"I think so," he returned, laughing. "You are well pleased that your
cousin and Miss Bloxam were well in front."

"Just so," said Sylla. "It is easy to see that you are married, Mr.
Sartoris, and can to some extent follow the windings of our feminine
minds. _They_ would have laughed, and, under pretence of assistance,
called attention," and here th