Ayleesabet fell forward, her arms went around his neck and her hands buried themselves in his whiskers. With a chirrup of delight she righted herself, a bridle-rein of hair in each hand. On went the charger, his speed increasing from a walk to an amble. Louder and louder laughed Elisabeth. Steed and rider were in that perfect accord wherein man seems akin to the Centaur. At the height of the race the drawing room door opened and in walked Ethel Blue and Ethel Brown Morton. The horse stopped suddenly and wiped his forehead with one of his forefeet, but maintained his horizontal position in order not to throw his rider. Elisabeth's equilibrium was somewhat disturbed by the abrupt cessation of her charger's advance but she kept a firm hold on her bridle and restored herself. "Go, go," she chortled, thumping the prostrate form of Mr. Clark with her slippered feet and smiling with excusable vanity at the new arrivals. The Ethels stood side by side so stricken with amazement and amusement that for an instant it seemed that apoplexy would overtake them. Thanks to their natural politeness they did not laugh, though they agreed later that it had been the hardest struggle of their lives not to do so. "We've come to take Ayleesabet home," they said. "It's awfully good of you to entertain her so long." They lifted the protesting equestrian to the floor and put on her outer garments while the late steed resumed an upright position and dusted his knees. "A very good child," he observed. "A very intelligent child. She does Miss Merriam great credit." "She's growing splendidly," replied Ethel Brown. "Too bad she can't continue under her care. Too bad." "Can't continue under her care!" repeated the Ethels in unison. "Why can't she? What do you mean?" "Why, on account of Miss Merriam's leaving. Of course you know. I hope I haven't betrayed any confidence." "Miss Merriam's leaving!" exclaimed the Ethels as one girl. "We don't know anything about it!" "Where is she going?" "When is she going?" The questions poured thick and fast and Mr. Clark seemed distinctly taken aback by the excitement he had created. "Why, Dr. Watkins said that he thought she wasn't going to stay with Elisabeth much longer. That's what I understood him to say. I don't think I'm mistaken," and the old gentleman passed his hand nervously over the top of his head. "That's perfectly terrible if it's really so," declared Ethel Blue, who was an especial admirer of Gertrude Merriam's and a devout believer in her ability to turn Elisabeth from a skeleton into a robust little maiden. "We must find out at once," and Ethel Brown put Elisabeth into her coat with a speed that so disregarded all orderly procedure as to bring a frown to the young Belgian's brow.