Now, however, I saw a motor approaching.  Dr. Bell saw it, too, and pricked up his ears.  Seizing the reins firmly in one hand, I waved with the other, signalling to the motorist to stop, which he did, pulling out into the ditch.  Meanwhile I talked to Dr. Bell, patting him on the neck and telling him to go on and not to be afraid, because it was all right.  Dr. Bell did go on.  He went up to the front of the motor, past the side of it, and on behind it, without showing the least sign of alarm.  He did not mind it at all.  But the man in the motor minded.  Annoyed with me for having stopped him unnecessarily, he shouted something after me.  But I paid no attention to him.  Under the circumstances, it seemed the only thing to do.  I might have gotten off; I might conceivably have beaten him; but I never could have held the horse while doing it, or have gotten on again.

Presently, when I was changing the position of the reins, which were hurting my fingers because I had gripped them so tight, I accidentally shifted the gears in some way, so to speak, sending Dr. Bell off at a pace which was neither a trot nor a canter, but which carried us along at a sort of smooth, rapid glide.  At first I took this gait to be a swift trot, and attempted to post to it; then, as that did not work, I sat still in the saddle and, finding the posture comfortable, concluded that Dr. Bell must be single-footing.  I had never single-footed before.  Just as I was beginning to like it, however, he changed to a trot, then back to single-footing again, and so on, in a curious puzzling manner.

Except for the changes of gait, we were now going on rather well, and I had begun, for the first time, to feel a little security, when all of a sudden he swerved off and galloped with me up a driveway leading toward a white house which stood on a hill two or three hundred yards from the road.  Again I tried to stop him, but when I pulled on the reins he shook his head savagely from side to side and snorted in a loud and threatening manner.

As we neared the house I saw that two ladies were sitting on the porch regarding our approach with interest.  I hoped that Dr. Bell would find some way of keeping on past the house and into the fields, but he had no such intention.  Instead of going by, he swung around the circle before the porch, and stopped at the steps, upon which the two ladies were sitting.

One of them was a white-haired woman of gentle mien; the other was a girl of eighteen or twenty with pretty, mischievous eyes.

Both the ladies looked up inquiringly as Dr. Bell and I stopped.

I lifted my hat.  It was the only thing I could think of to do at the moment.  At this they both nodded gravely.  Then we sat and stared at one another.

“Well?” said the old lady, when the silence had become embarrassing.

I felt that I must say something, so I remarked:  “This is a very pretty place you have here.”