"Oh, Miss Dean, for heaven's sake don't do that," he said. "I hate to see a woman cry. I can't bear it. Pray forgive me if I spoke harshly. I could not help feeling annoyed that you should have done this." "You ought to be grateful," she cried passionately. "The woman you love so dearly will be there with gay Major Rockley--oh, Mr Linnell-- Richard--for heaven's sake forgive me. What have I said--what have I done?" In her alarm at the start he gave, and at his ghastly face, she let fall the reins and caught at his arm, when the ponies, feeling their heads free, dashed off; but this brought Linnell back to the present, and with one bound he reached the rein, hung on to it, and was dragged along for a few yards, turning the ponies' heads towards a steep bank by the side of the narrow unfrequented road. The result would have been that he would have been crushed between the chaise and the bank, but for Cora's presence of mind in seizing the other rein and dragging at it with all her might. As it was, he received a violent kick which turned him sick and faint, and when he came to, the ponies' reins were secured to a tree in the hedge, and he was lying upon the grass, with Cora's arm supporting his head, and her frightened face bending over him. "What is it?" he cried sharply. "Are you hurt?" "No," she said softly. "Don't move. How brave you are!" He looked at her wonderingly, and then flushing once more, he recalled the whole scene, and what led to it. "I was afraid you were hurt," he said, trying to rise; but the giddy feeling came back, and he sank down again. "You are hurt," she cried. "What shall I do? Richard--dear Richard! He's dying. Oh, my love--my love!" "Hush!" he cried huskily, as she was raising his head in her arms; "for God's sake don't speak to me like that. There--there--you see I am better. The pony kicked me. It made my head swim. There," he cried, rising to his knees, "you see it is all right. I quite frightened you." He stood up now and offered her his hand to rise; but she did not take it, for she covered her face with her hands and crouched lower and lower on her knees, sobbing wildly in a passion of grief, for his words had been as cold and distant as if they had been strangers. "Miss Dean--Miss Dean--pray let me help you to your carriage," he said; but she shrank from him. "Don't touch me!" she cried bitterly; "you made me love you--you made me disgrace myself like this, and now I am to be your laughing-stock and scorn." She looked up at him with her eyes full of rage, which died out on the instant as she cried to him wildly, "I wish you had let me drown!" He stood looking at her for a few moments, and then glanced along the winding lane; but they were quite alone. Then, taking her hand, he made her rise, for she submitted to his will without a trace of resistance. "I am very sorry," he said at last simply.