“I am that girl, Mr. Dinsmore,” cut in Jess, icily, and with more dignity of manner than good Mrs. Bryson would ever have dreamed that she possessed, adding: “Your conduct exasperated me, and I administered to you what I considered a lesson and a rebuke in one. I know you are intending to tell Mrs. Bryson about it to get me into trouble, but I do not care; I would do the same thing over again under the same provocation, Mr. Dinsmore!” she cried, with flashing eyes. “You mistake my intentions,” he hastened to reply; “I have no wish to ever mention it after this conversation, believe me. Instead, I wish to explain my actions to you, that I may not seem quite such an ogre in your sight as I must at present. Remember, I asked you to hear me then and you refused; surely you will not judge me too harshly until you have heard what I have to say upon the subject?” he said, eagerly. “I would rather try to forget it,” retorted Jess, her slender, dark, jetty eyebrows meeting in a decided frown. He would take no notice of her remark, but went on, quickly: “You shall hear my reason for my actions, which will, I am sure, excuse them----” “Nothing will ever excuse a man for lashing a poor dumb brute!” cried Jess, trembling with indignation. “Spare your words, sir!” Without noticing the interruption he went on, in a low, injured voice: “Some five minutes ere you saw me I had been taken with an attack of my old enemy--acute gastritis--and I knew that my only hope of not falling dead in the saddle was to reach a place where I could summon assistance, for in five minutes more I would be in spasms. In moments like that one uses every means within one’s grasp to reach safety and succor. I realized dimly that the animal was tired, but it was his life or mine, and the latter, of course, was the one to be saved. In my excruciating pain I know not what words I used--I never will know. My brain seemed on fire and whirling about; my only thought was to reach the village beyond, and with all possible speed, while I was able to control the lines and keep my seat. The terrible fall which the animal gave me had its good effects; it restored the circulation of blood as nothing else could have done, and probably saved my life then and there. That is all I have to say; surely, after knowing the truth, you cannot withhold your pardon from me, Miss Jess?” “Not if your statement is true,” replied the girl, with terrible straightforwardness. “I did you two injuries: the first, in believing you unmercifully wicked and cruel; the second, in reaching out from the limb of the tree on which I was seated and striking you. It is I who should sue for your pardon, sir, and pray that you might forget it.”