"Hold the reins tighter," he said, "and give Master Dot—or Spot? which is it?—a clean, little cut on the left side."
She did so, and Master Dot immediately spun round to the right.
Then Mr. Leicester showed her how to keep him straight by whipping him on the right, and Violet managed to drive him straight for some little distance until they came to a sharp corner.
"Now, take care," said Mr. Leicester; but his warning came too late.
Dot cut the corner rather close, Spot, of course, cut it closer, and the phaeton would have been over, and its contents spilled like eggs, had not Mr. Dodson's hand closed on the small ones of Violet, and tugged the leader round.
For the second time Violet learned how hard and firm that hand was, and involuntarily she uttered a little, sharp cry of pain.
"I am so sorry!" said Leicester, and his voice, naturally so cold and grave, grew wonderfully gentle and anxious. "I did not mean to hurt you."
"No, no; it's nothing," Violet said, coloring with shame at her weakness. "I am really very grateful. You did not hurt me. May I keep the reins a little longer? I don't deserve to after such a silly mistake."
"Yes," he said, "there is a bit of straight road now."