Then a gentle patting, a few soothing words, and he became more quiet, though still trembling in every nerve.

“I hope, Miss Warmore, you have not been injured.”

“Not in the least, thanks to your bravery,” replied the young lady, displaying wonderful coolness.  “I have had a pretty rapid ride and a bad shock, but that is all.”

Tom had caught up the reins and held them in hand, while he stood at the side of the vehicle near the daughter of his employer.

“Perhaps, Miss Warmore, it will be safer for me to drive home with you.  The horse is nervous and liable to take fright again.”

“I can never thank you sufficiently for what you have already done,” she said with emotion, moving to one side to make room for him.

“It was not difficult,” he remarked lightly, stepping in beside her, and speaking gently to the animal, as he carefully turned him around to drive back.  “I had time to prepare myself, and he was easily controlled.  May I ask how it happened?”

He was sure he never saw one so beautiful as she.  The excitement had brought a glow to her lustrous eyes, and there was deepening of the pink tinge on the cheeks which made her complexion perfection itself.  She was still agitated, though striving hard to bring her feelings under control.

“We were driving at a brisk pace,” she replied, “when a piece of paper blew across the road in front of Jack, and he was off like a shot.”

Tom noticed her use of the word “we,” and knew whom she meant.

“Could not Mr. Catherwood control him?”

He glanced sideways at her when he asked the question, and noticed the scornful expression that came upon her face.

“He might have done so had he a spark of your courage; but the instant Jack made his leap, Mr. Catherwood flung the lines over his back, and with a call to me to jump, he sprang out of the cart and left me alone.  If he had given me the lines, I could have managed Jack myself; but he wouldn’t allow me even that poor privilege.”

“He must have lost his head.”

“Small loss to lose such a head,” exclaimed Miss Jennie, who evidently held a small opinion of her escort; “it’s the last time I shall ever go riding with him.”

A queer thrill passed through Tom Gordon.  He was a fervent admirer of the young lady at his side; but he had worshiped her, as may be said, as we worship a fair and brilliant star.  It is something so far beyond our reach that we keep our admiration to ourself, and strive to drive the foolish feeling from our heart.

“I have no wish to injure Catherwood,” was his thought; “but if he is such a coward as to desert a lady in peril, it is well she should know it before it is too late.”

When Mr. Warmore referred to the young man as not only contemplating a partnership in his business, but as intending marriage, Tom Gordon held not the slightest doubt of his full meaning.  He was paying court to the merchant’s only daughter; and, if they were not already engaged, they expected soon to become so.