the yard, and
Riley had to lead him round and round, running at his head, and
coaxing him, while Captain Caldwell gathered up the reins and held the
whip in suspense, watching his opportunity each time they passed the
gate to give Artless a start that would make him bound through it.
Round and round they went, however, several times, with Artless
rearing, backing, and plunging; but at last the whip came down at the
right moment, just the slightest flick, Riley let go his head, and out
he dashed in his indignation, the battle ending in a wild gallop up
the street, with the car swinging behind him, and the whole of the
Irish side of the road out cheering and encouraging, to the children's
great delight. But their ebullition of glee was a little too much for
their father's nerves.

"These children of yours are perfect little devils, Caroline!" he
exclaimed irritably. Mrs. Caldwell smiled as at a compliment. She had
been brought up on horseback herself, and insisted on teaching the
children to regard danger as a diversion--not that that was difficult,
for they were naturally daring. She would have punished them promptly
on the slightest suspicion of timidity. "Only base-born people were
cowardly," she scornfully maintained. "No lady ever shows a sign of
fear."

Once, when they were crossing Achen sands, a wide waste, innocent of
any obstacle, Artless came down without warning, and Mildred uttered
an exclamation.

"Who was it made that ridiculous noise?" Mrs. Caldwell asked, looking
hard at Beth.

Beth could not clear herself without accusing her sister, so she said
nothing, but sat, consumed with fiery indignation; and for long
afterwards she would wake up at night, and clench her little fists,
and burn again, remembering how her mother had supposed she was
afraid.

Artless went at breakneck speed that day, shied at the most unexpected
moments, bolted right round, and stopped short occasionally; but Beth
sat tight mechanically, following her own fancies. Captain Caldwell was
going to inspect one of the outlying coastguard stations; and they went
by the glen road, memorable to Beth because it was there she first felt
the charm of running water, and found her first wild violets and tuft of
primroses. The pale purple of the violets and the scent of primroses,
warm with the sun, were among the happy associations of that time. But
her delight was in the mountain-streams, with their mimic waterfalls and
fairy wells. She l