But the more I begged, the louder Ned laughed and urged his horses. The ground seemed to fly from under the wagon, and in few minutes we caught up to the company. Now I know I ought to have told brother Joe I was riding against my will, and that I should have jumped out the moment I got a chance, but I could not bear to let the girls know how Ned had acted. So I sat still while he drove past them all; and I was even wicked enough to feel a little proud as we passed Abby Matilda and her beau! Ned kept making love to me all the way up to the farm. It sounded well enough _then_, but it makes me sick to think of it now. The horses went along like kittens, and he seemed to have complete management of them, and when he came to steep places, he drove so carefully that I could not feel as if there was any danger. It was very cool and pleasant among the trees, and everything smelled so fresh and sweet, it was delightful riding, and I tried not to think about father. Most of the company left their wagons at High Farm, and walked the rest of the way; but John Mills and Abby Matilda drove up to the top of the mountain, and so did a few others. We got safely to the spring, and when Ned helped me out of the wagon, he said: 'There now, Dimpey! don't the sorrels go beautiful? Your hair is just as sleek as when we started, and your cheeks are only a little redder, but that don't hurt 'em any.' As he lifted me down, his face touched mine for a minute. I don't know that he did it on purpose, but I shouldn't wonder! I was glad to stoop down to the spring, and wet my cheeks, for they felt hot enough by this time. However they had time to get cool while Ned was unharnessing his horses, and presently Abby Matilda and her beau came along. 'Dear me, Dimpey,' said she, 'have you really got here without breaking your bones, and with Mr. Hassel's wonderful team, too?' I was so provoked at the mean thing--I know she was jealous because Ned didn't ask _her_--that I never said a word; but Ned answered: 'My horses are not in the habit of breaking anybody's bones, Miss Abby, and if they were, they wouldn't pick out the belle of Preston to practise on--not while I'm master.' Abby colored up, and flirted her head, as she always does when she's angry; but the rest of the company began to come up, and nothing more was said.