Fanny, with Norman pushing behind, soon dragged the carriage up the hill. He then declared that he was tired, and getting in told her to move on.
As the ground was tolerably smooth, she was able to do so at a speed which satisfied the young gentleman.
“Capital,” he cried out, flourishing his stick, “my horse draws fast, go on, go on; now see if you can’t gallop.”
Fanny exerted herself to the utmost, and the air being pure and fresh she felt in good spirits.
The ground after some time became rather rougher, but Norman did not mind the bumping and thumping of the carriage, though it was much harder work for Fanny.
She at last began to go slower.
“Can’t you keep it up,” he cried out. “If you do not! Remember I have got my stick!”
“You must also remember how I treated you the last time,” said Fanny, “and if you use your stick as you did then, I will leave you in the carriage and run away.”
“You had better not,” said Norman. “You promised to take care of me. Mamma will be angry if you leave me on the moor all alone by myself.”
“Very well, do not beat me with your stick, and I will drag you on as fast as I can,” said Fanny.