The twins looked at one another and at their two elders with frightened eyes. "Bay Laurel was father's second horse," said Joan. "He rode Kenilworth this morning and we passed him coming home, so it can't have been the groom."
Nancy got up from her chair. "Oh, I wish mother would come down," she said.
"Sit down, dear," said Miss Dexter. "Your mother told you not to be frightened."
But Nancy went to the window, and Joan followed her. They drew aside the curtains and looked out on the park, lying still and empty in the now fading light. "Isn't that something near the gate?" asked Joan. "No, it is only a tree. Bay Laurel is as quiet as any horse in the stable, Nancy. He must have fallen at a fence."
"I should have thought he would have stood until father got up," said Nancy.
"It looks as if he had been too much hurt to get up," said Joan, and then began to cry.
Miss Dexter came over to them and drew the curtains again firmly. "Don't make a fuss," she said, "or you will make your mother anxious. Pull yourselves together and come and sit down. Joan, give Miss Phipp some tea."
Joan did as she was told, still crying softly. Nancy said, "Father has never had a bad fall, and he has been hunting all his life. He knows how to take a toss. Don't be a fool, Joan. I expect it will be all right."
"Don't talk like that," said Miss Phipp sharply, her nerves on edge, "and, Joan, stop crying at once."
Upon which Joan cried the more. "I'm sure he's badly hurt," she said, "and he's lying out in the c-cold, or they'll b-bring him home on a shutter."