"I wish, Mrs. Green," he said, "you would take great care to close the gates at night; we are near enough the city for dangerous characters to stray down here." "Law, sar, we're just as careful as can be. There ain't a night we don't shut and lock the gates. I hope we ain't a coming to no blame; I'm a lone woman and Jem's a cripple. It would be hard on us." Mellen tried to stop her flood of protestations and appeals, but she insisted upon telling the whole story of every misery she had endured during her life, before she would pause in her plea of sorrow for an instant. By that time the carriage fortunately arrived and they were able to escape the sound of her tongue. The husband and wife drove somewhat silently home. Mellen was very anxious about Elizabeth, who had recovered her usual serenity of temper, and could do her best to reassure him, though the color would not come back to her face, nor the startled look die out of her eyes. When they reached the house, Elsie was standing on the steps, and ran down to the carriage full of alarm, having just learned that Elizabeth had met with some accident, while Tom came forward more anxious still. "Are you hurt? are you hurt?" demanded Elsie. Elizabeth assured her that she was not in the least injured, tried to laugh at Mellen's solicitude, but looked very nervous still. "You are sure you are not hurt?" urged Tom. "Perfectly sure." "Maybe I'd better run after a doctor though?" "Nonsense, Tom," she said, a little impatiently, "when I tell you I am not hurt in the least." Tom and Elsie cried out together to know how the accident had happened, but Mellen gave a very brief explanation, while Elizabeth entered the hall and sat down in a chair to rest. Tom ran to bring her a glass of wine which she did not want, and they all worried her with their solicitude, till it required great patience to restrain herself from breaking away from them rudely and rushing into the solitude she so much needed. "If I had hold of the creature that scared the horse, I'd mill him," cried Tom, irately. "I don't suppose he was to blame," said Elsie. "Of course not," added Elizabeth; "of course not." Mellen made no remark; he was watching Elizabeth, who still looked pale and oppressed. "Do you feel better?" he asked. "Much, I assure you; don't be frightened about me." "Bessie is such a heroine!" cried Elsie. Elizabeth gave one of the irritated looks with which she had sometimes regarded Elsie of late, but made no remark. "She's a trump!" said Tom; "that's all there is about it." Elsie laughed. "I shall go up to my room and lie down," Elizabeth said; "an hour's rest will restore me completely." Mellen assisted her upstairs and Elsie accompanied them, quite ready to accept Elizabeth's assurance that she was not injured, and doing her best to make them both laugh. "Accidents seem the order of the day," she said; "it's lucky for us, Bessie, that we always have some one near to help us."