"Oh, I'm all right," he answered cheerfully. "I should think you'd feel badly shaken, though," he added, with sudden anxiety. "Not at all," said Fanny, determined to show no more emotion or excitement than he. "It was a case of sitting still--neck or nothing. It's nothing, as it happens." At that moment Brinsley appeared, riding slowly through the trees, for fear of frightening the mare again. "Are you hurt?" he shouted. Fanny looked round, saw him, and shook her head, with a smile. Brinsley trotted up and sprang from his horse. "Are you sure you're not hurt?" he asked again. "Not in the least!" "Thank God!" ejaculated Brinsley, with emphasis. "You'd better thank Mr. Lawrence, too," observed Fanny, quietly. "He caught her going at a gallop, and hung on and was dragged. I don't remember ever seeing anything quite so plucky." Brinsley looked coldly at his rival, and his beady eyes seemed nearer together than usual when he spoke to him. "I think you're quite as much to be congratulated as Miss Trehearne," he said. "Thanks." "We'd better be getting down to the road again," said Fanny. "You can lead the mare and your own horse, too, Mr. Brinsley. She's quiet enough now, and I've all I can do to walk in these things." Brinsley took the mare's bridle over her head and led the way with the two horses. "Aren't you coming?" asked Fanny, seeing that Lawrence did not follow. "Thanks--no," he answered. "I must find my hat, in the first place." Brinsley looked over his shoulder, and saw the two hanging back. He stopped a moment, turning, and laying one hand on the mare's nose. "You must be shaken, Mr. Lawrence," he said. "Why don't you take the groom's horse and ride home with us?" "I can't ride," answered the younger man, loud enough for Brinsley to hear him. "And you know it perfectly well," he added under his breath. Fanny frowned, but took no further notice of the remark. "Good-bye," she said, holding out her hand to Lawrence. "Come home as soon as you can, won't you?" "Oh yes--that is, I think I'll just see you take that fence again, and then I want to get a little higher up the hill and do another bit of a sketch. Then I'll come home. There's no hurry, is there?" "Don't show off," said Fanny, severely. "It isn't pretty. Good-bye." She walked fast and overtook Brinsley in a few moments. At the foot of the hill he prepared to mount her, leaving his own horse to the groom. Then a thing happened which he was never able to explain, though he was an expert in the field and no one could mount a lady better than he, of all Fanny's acquaintances. He bent his knee and held out his hand and stiffened his back and made the necessary effort just at the right moment, as he very well knew. But for some inexplicable reason Fanny did not reach the saddle, nor anywhere near it, and she slipped and would certainly have fallen if he had not caught her with his other hand and held her on her feet.