Suddenly the spirited pony, looking ahead, saw the shining wheels spinning toward him, and took unexpected fright, and swerved from his course. Whinnying with fear, and plunging forward before Dallas could restrain him, he dashed upon the very object of his fright, his forward hoofs striking the wheel and overthrowing the fair rider before she could turn out of his way, just as Dallas reined him in with a grasp like steel. Oh, horrors! There lay the poor girl on the sands, beneath her wheel, still as death! And as Dallas sprang from the buggy the other girl jumped from her wheel in grief and reproach. “Alas, alas! You have killed sweet Daisie Bell!” He answered with a cry of anguish, for there at their feet lay the lovely girl, her sweet eyes closed, her golden curls trailing on the sands, while a thin stream of blood trickled down her cheek from a little cut on her temple. Dallas and Miss Janowitz--for it was the beautiful brunette again--bent over the prostrate girl, and they saw that she was quite unconscious, stunned, perhaps, by the blow on her temple, received either from the horse’s hoof or a shell on the sands. “It was an accident--I would give my life if it had not happened!” he cried wildly, and she saw that his face grew pale as Daisie’s while he felt for her heart, adding: “She cannot be dead, only stunned a little, I think. Oh, if she could but have turned aside as quickly as you did!” Annette wrung her little hands, and her dark eyes filled with tears as she cried: “Poor Daisie! She was just learning to ride, and was not skillful enough to get out of the way. Oh, what shall we do now, Mr. Bain?” “Why, I will take her home in my buggy, and you had better remount your wheel and go for the doctor as fast as you can.” Annette called a curious urchin loitering near to ride Daisie’s wheel back to town, and the sad procession started on its return, Annette soon leaving the buggy far in the rear in her haste to obtain a physician for her friend. It was several miles back to the cottage, and Dallas Bain would never forget that ride, nor the love and grief that thrilled his heart as beautiful Daisie rested against it like a dead girl, with the dark fringe of her lashes prone upon her pallid cheeks. All his thoughts were prayers that she might soon revive, and a little before he turned into Temple Street he saw her breast heave slightly and her eyelids quiver. The next moment they unclosed, while a moan of pain came from her colorless lips. He could not help pressing her a little tighter in his arms for very joy, as he murmured tenderly: “Do not be frightened, little Daisie. I am Dallas Bain, you know, and I am taking you home because you fainted.”