Inwardly I was wondering how it was the animal had been so long in reaching the Grange. It must have wandered on slowly feeding by the wayside till it had taken fright at some passing object and started at full gallop for home.
Miss Gascoyne looked around in dismay for her brother.
“She wur alone, Miss,” said the groom, blankly.
“It doesn’t at all follow that your brother was on her back when she bolted,” I ventured.
She looked at me, grateful for the suggestion. She was very white, but her character asserted itself. She turned to the groom.
“Baker, take Jenny round to the stables and make her comfortable as soon as possible. Mr. Rank and I will walk as far as the inn and you can follow us.”
“Very good, Miss.” The man did as he was directed.
“I will go as I am,” she said, “though after all I may be alarming myself unnecessarily.” She was not the woman to treat the situation hysterically if it could possibly be avoided. I was genuinely sorry for the grief that was coming upon her. I would have spared her if possible, but I either had to abandon the object of my life or to put up with such unpleasantnesses as were involved with the course I had laid out for myself.
We started to walk rapidly towards the inn.
“I dare say Harry missed his stirrup and Jenny bolted.”