"Then why need you have alarmed us so?" interrupted Dr. Ashton, reprovingly.
"Well, sir, it's her ladyship seems hurt—or something," cried the man.
Lord Hartledon looked at him.
"What have you come to tell, Richard? Speak out."
Apparently Richard could not speak out. His lady had been frightened and fainted, and did not come to again. And Lord Hartledon waited to hear no more.
The people, standing about in the park here and there—for even this slight accident had gathered its idlers together—seemed to look at Lord Hartledon curiously as he passed them. Close to the house he met Ralph the groom. The boy was crying.
"'Twasn't no fault of anybody's, my lord; and there ain't any damage to the ponies," he began, hastening to excuse himself. "The little lord only slid off, and they stood as quiet as quiet. There wasn't no cause for my lady's fear."
"Is she fainting still?"
"They say she's—dead."
Lord Hartledon pressed onwards, and met Mr. Hillary at the hall-door. The surgeon took his arm and drew him into an empty room.