The terriers raced along the road, and Mary, seeing that she had the road all to herself, raced after them.  A light snow-shower, large feathery flakes flying wide apart, fell from the steel-grey sky; but Mary minded the snow no more than she minded the wind.  She raced on, the terriers scampering, rushing, flying before her, until, just where the road took a curve, she almost ran into a horse, which was stepping along at a tremendous pace, with a light, high dogcart behind him.

‘Hi!’ cried the driver, ’where are you coming, young woman?  Have you never seen a horse till to-day?’

Some one beside the driver leapt out, and ran to see if Mary was hurt.  The horse had swerved to one side, reared a little, and then spun on for a few yards, leaving her standing in the middle of the road.

‘Why, it’s Molly!’ cried the driver, who was no less distinguished a whip than Lord Maulevrier, and who had recognised the terriers.

‘I hope you are not hurt,’ said the gentleman who had alighted, Maulevrier’s friend and shadow, John Hammond.

Mary was covered with confusion by her exploit, and could hardly answer Mr. Hammond’s very simple question.

She looked up at him piteously, trying to speak, and he took alarm at her scared expression.

‘I am sure you are hurt,’ he said earnestly, ’the horse must have struck you, or the shaft perhaps, which was worse.  Is it your shoulder that is hurt, or your chest?  Lean on me, if you feel faint or giddy.  Maulevrier, you had better drive your sister home, and get her looked after.’

‘Indeed, I am not hurt; not the least little bit,’ gasped Mary, who had recovered her senses by this time.  ’I was only frightened, and it was such a surprise to see you and Maulevrier.’

A surprise—­yes—­a surprise which had set her heart throbbing so violently as to render her speechless.  Had horse or shaft-point struck her ever so, she would have hardly been more tremulous than she felt at this moment.  Never had she hoped to see him again.  He had set his all upon one cast—­loved, wooed, and lost her sister.  Why should he ever come again?  What was there at Fellside worth coming for?  And then she remembered what her grandmother thought of him.  He was a hanger-on, a sponge, a led captain.  He was Maulevrier’s Umbra, and must go where his patron went.  It was a hard thing so to think of him, and Mary’s heart sank at the thought that Lady Maulevrier’s worldly wisdom might have reckoned aright.

‘It was very foolish of me to run into the horse,’ said Mary, while Mr. Hammond stood waiting for her to recover herself.

’It was very foolish of Maulevrier to run into you.  If he didn’t drive at such a break-neck pace it wouldn’t have happened.’

Umbra was very plain-spoken, at any rate.

‘There’s rank ingratitude,’ cried Maulevrier, who had turned back, and was looking down at them from his elevated perch.  ’After my coming all the way round by Langdale to oblige you with a view of Elterwater.  Molly’s all safe and sound.  She wouldn’t have minded if I’d run over her.  Come along, child, get up beside me, Hammond will take the back seat.’