"Just at this moment, and when I was trembling all over, a pair of magnificent horses dashed past, in an open barouche; and there, standing in it, with her hands stretched out in supplication, was a dear little girl just about as old as Lily. As they rushed past, I heard her say,—
"'Oh, do stop them! Do please stop them!'
"I couldn't help it; I just put my handkerchief to my face, and had a good cry."
"Did the little girl pray to God to make the horses stop running?" faltered Lily, her lip quivering as she winked back her tears.
"I don't know, darling, but she looked like a child who had been taught to pray."
"I would pray for her, mamma, I would."
"My love, I did pray that the good God might spare her life; and I thanked him that my own darlings were not in such danger."
"Was she killed then?" asked Helen, her eyes growing very large.
"No, dear. Mrs. Groves told James to drive on as fast as he could. I forgot all about my own fright, in my anxiety to find out whether the poor little child was saved."
"Why didn't somebody stop the horses, mamma?"