"May I take my horse to your stable, Clare?" asked Carlotta. "He is quiet enough, but I would rather not drive now, and then I will hurry to the village for a doctor. I am so sorry for all this," she concluded. "There are certainly no bones broken," said the practical Clare; "she has simply fainted." Clare and Mr. Gamut slowly carried Martine to the side of the road, and now Clare was supporting her friend's head on her knee, while Mr. Gamut had gone to Red Knoll for water. As Carlotta disappeared down the lane leading to the Ethridge house, Martine stirred slightly, and opened her eyes. "Where am I?" she asked, faintly. "Oh--yes--I remember," and though she closed her eyes again, she no longer lay a dead weight against Clare's arm. CHAPTER XXV THE SUMMER'S END One afternoon in late September, Martine sat under the trees in her mother's corner of the Red Knoll garden. A number of letters lay before her on a little round table, and beside her, swinging lazily in a hammock, was Priscilla, the practical, who had often been heard to say that she despised hammocks. After a moment Priscilla, bringing herself to a full stop, leaned forward and gazed intently at Martine. "I cannot see," she said at length, "that you look so _very_ thin." "Why should I be _very_ thin?" "Well, from what I heard I thought you must be. They said you weren't eating, and you are thinner than you were in the spring. I am sure your eyes look larger." "Probably my eyes have grown; I am sure my waistbands have." There was a twinkle in Martine's brown eyes, as she pushed back a wavy lock of hair. "You are just a little paler, too," persisted Priscilla, "but except for that, no one would believe that you had been so ill." "I don't believe it myself," replied Martine, "though I am perfectly willing to take the word of those who say they know. To tell you the truth, I am rather ashamed to hear that I barely escaped nervous prostration, just because I tried to stop a horse from running away." "But you _did_ stop him." "Then he wasn't running away. It was only that Carlotta had let go the reins." "Well, they all say that if you hadn't seized the bridle, he would have gone straight down the little embankment." "Nonsense--at any rate I spoilt the effect of it all by fainting, and yet I shouldn't have fainted if I hadn't been following your example. The horse had nothing to do with it." "Oh, Martine!"