"What brings him here, Cris?"
"I have bought him," shortly answered Cris.
"Have you? Mrs. Chattaway, I would advise you not to venture out behind that horse. He has not been broken in for driving."
"He has," returned Cris. "You mind your own business. Do you think I should drive him if he were not safe? He's only skittish. I understand horses, I hope, as well as you do."
George turned to Mrs. Chattaway. "Do not go with him," he urged. "Let Cris try him first alone."
"I am not afraid, George," she said, in loving accents. "It is not often Cris finds time to drive me. Thank you all the same."
Cris gave the horse its head, and the animal dashed off. George stood watching until a turn in the avenue hid them from view, and then gave utterance to an involuntary exclamation:
"Cris has no right to risk the life of his mother."
Not very long afterwards, the skittish horse was flying along the road, with nothing of the dog-cart left behind him, but its shafts.