Adele burst into loud sobs. “There, there,” said Miss Betty, soothingly; “I am sure you have had punishment enough, and I won’t scold, but I wish your father had never bought you that pony. I shall never have an easy day after this.”
“The pony is all right,” declared the doctor. “He had the good sense not to run when he felt the wheel going. He is a fine little fellow and it is due to his good behavior that the children came to no worse mishap. I’ll leave a quieting draught for the child, Miss Hallett, and something for that head of yours.”
“My head was better,” said Miss Betty weakly.
“This won’t come amiss,” replied the doctor, putting a few tablets into a small phial. “Get the child to bed and go yourself. I’ll come again in the morning.”
So while those in the yellow house were looking after Adele, Jessie was being driven home behind Ezra’s old white horse and was delivered safe, if not quite sound, into her mother’s arms.
As it was getting late Mrs. Loomis was getting anxious, and was about to send Max to the Halletts’ after his little sister. Ezra had not waited for thanks, but as soon as he had set Jessie safely down before her own door he drove off at as rapid a pace as his old horse could travel. At Jessie’s sudden appearance looking as if she had been through the wars her mother cried out: “Why, my child, what is the matter? How did you get such a scratched face? and look at your stocking torn to shreds.”
“Well, I vow!” exclaimed Walter, “you do look a sight! Been climbing trees, I bet.”
“Indeed I’ve not,” returned Jessie. “I can climb trees, but I haven’t done it to-day. I’ll tell you, mother, but I don’t want to before Walter.”
“Oh, all right,” said that person indifferently, “I don’t want to know.”
Jessie slipped her hand into her mother’s.