“Whew!” and the man whistled softly, while an amused light shone in his eyes.  “Did she send you after me?” he inquired.

“I promised, sir, that I wouldn’t tell.”

“Oh, I see,” and the man relapsed into silence.  A picture of Miss Arabella’s angular figure, thin face, and long sharp nose rose before him.  And to think that she was in love with him!  It was almost too good to be true, and he longed to laugh outright.  What a story he would have to relate when he got home.

Miss Arabella was lying just where Rod had left her when John Markham and the boy entered.  She gave a little squeak of joy when the stranger stepped to her side.

“I knew you would come back,” she murmured.  “I was certain that you would not forsake me.”

“Not until I had found the horse, madam,” was the reply.  “I regret very much that the wagon is broken, but I shall make good your loss.”

“Don’t mention such a thing,” and the invalid feebly waved her thin hands.  “Such material matters don’t count for anything to a heart over-flowing with gratitude.”

“Yes, you were most fortunate to escape as you did, madam.  You might have been seriously injured, nay, you might have been killed, and so I can understand how grateful you must feel.”

“Oh, I don’t mean that,” and Miss Arabella raised her soulful eyes to the man’s face.  “I am so thankful that you have come back.”

“You didn’t imagine that I would run away with your horse, did you, madam?  She is certainly a fine beast, and it is lucky that she did not receive any serious damage.  I am much pleased that I have been able to deliver her to you with so few scratches upon her.  A little treatment will make her all right.  You will find Bickmore’s Gall Cure very good.”

“It’s not that, not that, I assure you,” and again Miss Arabella flapped her hands in agony of soul.  “What does a horse amount to when the heart is affected?”

“Oh, is that what’s the matter?” and Mr. Markham assumed an expression of great solicitude.  “It was the fall, no doubt, which did it.  Have you had trouble there before?”

“It wasn’t the fall that caused it,” and Miss Arabella covered her face with her hand.  “It goes deeper than that.”

“Dear me, madam, you must certainly see the doctor.  It is very serious, and you must not delay any longer.  I believe the doctor lives down the road.  Shall I call on him on my way home, and tell him to come at once?”

Before Miss Arabella could reply, a raucous honk outside arrested their attention.

“It’s merely the car,” Mr. Markham explained.  “I must be going now.”

“What, so soon?  Must you leave me again?” and the invalid raised her eyes appealingly to the man’s face.

“Yes, I must be off.  My wife will be wondering what——­”

“Your wife!” Miss Arabella shrieked, sitting bolt upright.  “Do you tell me that you have a wife!”