"Wait, Seth, can't you?" warned Claire. Then to Marion: "There's no hurry, dear. When you feel better." But her eyes denied her words. There was indeed no way out of it. Marion must speak, and without delay. "I'm cold," she said, shivering. "Of course!" cried Claire. "Come to the fire. And Seth! Close the door, please!" Huntington strode to the door, and slammed it shut. Then he returned to the chimney piece, and watched Marion as she leaned toward the blaze. He could barely restrain himself, waiting for her to begin. "I've been a silly fool, I suppose," she said presently, sitting erect again, and facing her cousins courageously. "It was all my fault. You mustn't blame him." An impatient exclamation by Huntington drew a warning glance from Claire. "Tell us just what happened, dear!" she urged gently. "I don't exactly know--I can't just understand how it happened," Marion began. "I had an accident--in the road. My foot was hurt--my ankle was twisted--or I thought it was--and I was frightened." "An accident?" said Claire. "I was off my pony--the cinches were loose--and--when I tried to mount again--I slipped--somehow--and fell. He was just in time to help me, and--" "Where was that?" asked Huntington. "Just below his place. He was coming back--" "But what were you doing over there?" demanded Huntington. "Riding," she said calmly, perhaps a little defiantly. "Yes, I know that. But on his land?" "Did you ever tell me anything about that?" she retorted. "No, but--" "Then how was I to know?" "But you've heard--" "Yes, I heard some things at the post-office. You've told me nothing." Huntington's face reddened angrily. "Never mind that now!" cried Claire sharply, sending another warning look at Seth. "Go on, dear!" Marion went on, very carefully. With Claire alone she might have been more frank and confiding, but Seth's belligerent attitude had begun to stir resentment in her. "He thought I had a bad sprain. He was annoyed; he didn't take any pains to conceal that from me. But he lifted me into the saddle, and rode with me to his stable, and told one of his men to hitch up a team, and drive me home. That would have been--all right, and he had no intention--until--something I said--I must have been hysterical--something made him angry, and he--said he would drive me home himself." "And you let him!" cried Claire reproachfully. "No, I didn't _let_ him. He did it in spite of all I could do. I pleaded with him, I tried every way to stop him. Once I started to leap out of the trap. But he caught me. He laughed at me But he was very angry too; he scolded me dreadfully. Said I needed to be punished for--I don't know what. He hates women, and says we're always meddling in men's affairs. It served me right, of course. And please remember it was all my fault--truly!" "Did he say anything about making peace?" asked Claire. "No. That was all mine. I had to do something quickly. You know that."