"The last letter was more cheerful. But we haven't heard for three weeks, and I am wondering what we shall do next year if he has lost _all_ his money. It will be so hard for Lucian to give up college." Clare was at a loss for a reply. Mrs. Stratford and Martine were new friends and she really knew little about their affairs. She had to content herself with rather vague attempts to cheer Martine, and she was gratified before they reached their stopping place to see the smiles return to Martine's face. It was almost dusk as the car sped down a long hill near the Country Club. "Why, that was Carlotta driving," exclaimed Clare, as they passed a restive horse that was driven by a girl in a high cart. "She has poor control of her horse," rejoined Martine. "It's curious," added Clare, "that Carlotta, who is so good at other sports, knows so little about a horse. She seldom drives alone. I wonder how it happens that no one is with her now." "She may swim better than I," rejoined Martine, "but I believe I could give her points about managing a horse." Soon the two friends had reached their corner and were about to part when they heard the clatter of hoofs and wheels. "Keep to the side, Clare," cried Martine. "It's Carlotta, the horse is running away." Hardly had she uttered these words when the horse and carriage were upon them. The reins had fallen, and Carlotta, helpless, was clinging to the side of the carriage. Martine did not hesitate. Instantly she plunged forward, and unheeding Clare's warning scream, flung herself before the horse. Yet, in spite of her impetuosity, she knew what she was doing. The creature's speed was less than it seemed to the frightened Clare. Martine with a sure aim reached the bridle. Although she was dragged a few steps, the horse slackened his pace, and stopped. Carlotta, too much shaken to resume control, jumped to the ground on the opposite side from Martine. "Look!" cried Clare, running up to her as she came to the horse's head. "Is she hurt?" asked Carlotta, anxiously, as Clare stooped down toward Martine, who had fallen to the ground. "She must be," replied Clare. "What shall we do?" "I cannot very well leave my horse," responded Carlotta, still with her hand on the bridle; "if only somebody--" At that moment "somebody" did appear, in the shape of Mr. Gamut. "Bless my soul!" he exclaimed, "What is this? An accident?" Martine lay white and still. Clare, stooping down, could not rouse her. "Let us take her to the house, and then I will go for Mrs. Stratford," cried Clare; "she has been spending the day with my mother." "I was on my way to Red Knoll," said Mr. Gamut. "I came on the afternoon train, and I felt anxious to talk over the good news; but now, this looks serious," he continued, as together he and Clare lifted Martine from the ground.