“Oh, Jingles,” she cried, now almost in tears, “wasn’t it awful! Come quick and we will look after the dear fellow,” and she ran swiftly to the far end of the field in which the frightened horse had taken refuge. There he stood with his poor head hanging dejectedly down, and the blood dripping from the cut nostril. Marion approached him very quietly, fearing that his recent cruel treatment might have undone all she had striven so patiently to gain, but the intelligent animal had learned more than one lesson that day, and the girl had won his confidence forever. Taking the poor, smarting muzzle in her soft, white hands, she examined it closely and found the cut to be a bad one. “If I only had some water,” she said to herself, “I could bathe it. I know, I’ll lead him to that spring down at the edge of the field,” and untying the pretty Roman sash from her waist, she placed it very gently around the horse’s neck, and, saying in her sweet voice, “Come along, dear,” she led him quietly beside her. Her dainty linen handkerchief served to bathe the injured nose, and when the bleeding was stanched she turned toward the gate, intending to lead her patient home, little realizing what a pretty picture she made as she came across the fields with the afternoon sunlight falling upon her beautiful brown hair and pretty white gown, with one hand leading the handsome sorrel horse by his gay silken leader, while the other was laid caressingly across his neck. To the gentleman standing concealed behind a clump of evergreens just beyond the gate it seemed the prettiest sight he had ever looked upon, and a pleasing ending to the harrowing one to which he had been an unseen witness. Slipping from his hiding-place as the girl approached, he advanced with outstretched hand, saying: “Little neighbor, I have more than one thing for which to thank you this afternoon, but the greatest is for your heroic defense of my horse. Don’t try to tell me anything about it,” as Marion gave a slight start and opened her lips to speak,--“I saw the whole occurrence from beginning to end, and now I know why one of my most valuable animals has thus far in his career been pronounced vicious.” “Oh, he isn’t! I _know_ he isn’t,” exclaimed his champion. “So do I,--_now_, but I have been a long time learning it, and, but for you, I should probably never have done so; since that man, upon whom you wreaked your vengeance,” and here a rather amused smile curved the corners of Mr. Ryder’s lips, “was cunning enough to conceal his true disposition when in my presence.” Marion colored slightly, and said: “I know it was a dreadful thing to do, and I don’t know what papa will say when I tell him about it, but I was so angry that I just _couldn’t_ keep still.”