“How could you have so much courage?” she asked. “You might have been trampled to death under the hoofs of the horses.”
“I didn't think of that. I only thought of stopping the horses.”
“You are a brave boy. I shudder when I think of your danger and mine. I shall not dare to get into the carriage again this afternoon.”
“Allow me to accompany you home?” said Paul, politely.
“Thank you; I will trouble you to go with me as far as Broadway, and then I can get into an omnibus.”
She turned and addressed some words to the coachman, directing him to drive home as soon as the horses were quieted, adding that she would trust herself to the escort of the young hero, who had rescued her from the late peril.
“You're a lucky boy,” thought John, the coachman. “My mistress is one that never does anything by halves. It won't be for nothing that you have rescued her this afternoon.”
As they walked along, the lady, by delicate questioning, succeeded in drawing from our hero his hopes and wishes for the future. Paul, who was of a frank and open nature, found it very natural to tell her all he felt and wished.
“He seems a remarkably fine boy,” thought the lady to herself. “I should like to do something for him.”
They emerged into Broadway.