"Thank God!" ejaculated Brinsley, with emphasis.
"You'd better thank Mr. Lawrence, too," observed Fanny, quietly. "He caught her going at a gallop, and hung on and was dragged. I don't remember ever seeing anything quite so plucky."
Brinsley looked coldly at his rival, and his beady eyes seemed nearer together than usual when he spoke to him.
"I think you're quite as much to be congratulated as Miss Trehearne," he said.
"Thanks."
"We'd better be getting down to the road again," said Fanny. "You can lead the mare and your own horse, too, Mr. Brinsley. She's quiet enough now, and I've all I can do to walk in these things."
Brinsley took the mare's bridle over her head and led the way with the two horses.
"Aren't you coming?" asked Fanny, seeing that Lawrence did not follow.
"Thanks—no," he answered. "I must find my hat, in the first place."
Brinsley looked over his shoulder, and saw the two hanging back. He stopped a moment, turning, and laying one hand on the mare's nose.