Well, father wasn't hurt as bad as we thought--only stunned by the fall; he had a bad bruise on his cheek, though, and Dr. Basset said he must keep still on the bed all day, and have his face bathed with laudanum and vinegar. They were all so busy that no one thought about _me_, till Race came out of father's room and found me sitting on the low chair, rocking my doll in my arms, and crying as if my heart would break; I had felt so lonesome and miserable that I was holding the doll for company; and when Race saw me he said, 'Why, what's the matter with little Dimpey?' 'Is father dead?' said I; 'can't I go and see him?' Then Race told me father was better, and that I must not cry, and this made me cry more; so he took me up in his arms, doll and all--I well remember how strong his arms felt--and sat down in the big rocking chair in the parlor; and when the house was quiet, and Calanthy came to look for me, there she found us, I with my arms round Race's neck, and the dolly hugged up tight, and all three of us fast asleep! But this was long ago, and I was a woman now, and a good deal sought after, as I said before, and some of my beaux were well off and good looking; and, if the truth must be spoken, Race had not paid me much attention lately, and did not seem to think as much of me as Ned Hassel did, and the other young men of our place. To be sure he worked very hard, for his father was sick a good while and died in debt, and their farm was mortgaged to 'Squire Stevens; and as Race was the only child, everything came upon _him_, and he was in the field early and late, trying to pay off the mortgage, and keep the old homestead for his mother. He _was_ a good son--that everybody said; but he didn't visit 'round as much as some. I sat so long under the apple tree thinking of all this, that I got quite cool and comfortable, and when Polly Jane called me in to dinner I felt good-natured again. While we were eating dinner, brother Joe said, 'Dimpey, as soon as we get through haying the boys are going to have a drive to Spring Mountain, and take the girls up, for a picnic. Ned Hassel started it; I guess he wants to show off his sorrel horses; but that near horse of his is as skittish a creetur as ever I see--I wouldn't ride after it, if I was you.' 'No, no,' said father; 'Dimpey isn't going to have her neck broken by _them_ beasts; Ned always drives 2.40, as he calls it, and he'll be sure to race with the other teams if they give him a chance.'