Grace and Mollie were riding home in the carriage that had been sent to bring Mrs. Billette to the home of her relative, for the anxious mother, on hearing that Dodo could not be moved, had come to look after the injured child. Paul went home with his sister. He was munching contentedly on some candy, and all thought of the recent accident and scare had vanished in the present small and sweet happiness.
“Oh, it must have been perfectly dreadful, Grace,” said Mollie, sympathetically. “Perfectly terrible!”
“It was! And are you sure you don’t feel resentful toward me?”
“The idea! Certainly not. It was poor Dodo’s fault, in a way; but I blame those motorists more than anyone else. They should be found.”
“They certainly made a lot of trouble,” admitted Grace. “But I would rather find Prince than them. I wonder where he could have run to?”
“Oh, probably not far, after he got over being frightened. Doubtless you’ll hear of his being found, and then you can send for him, and recover the papers.”
“If only the saddle doesn’t come off, and get lost,” said Grace. “That would be dreadful, for there would be no telling where to look for it.”
“Most likely it would be along some road. Prince would probably keep to the highways, and if the girth should break and the saddle come off it would be seen. Then, by the papers in the pockets, persons could tell to whom it belonged.”
“That is just it. Papa doesn’t want anyone to see those papers. Some of them have to be kept secret. Oh, I know he will feel dreadful about the loss, and so will Grandma! It was partly her property that was involved in the transaction.”
“But they can’t blame you.”