The thought filled him with grief and rebellion and resentment; yet there was nothing he could do to alter the fact that Donald's "young females" were already here, and prepared, doubtless, to stay.
The sorrel was dashing down the road at a great pace, but the boy clung firmly to his seat and gloried in the breeze that fanned his hot cheeks.

Away and away he raced until he reached the crossroads, miles away, and down this he turned and galloped as recklessly as before.
The sun was hot, today, and the sorrel's flanks begun to steam and show flecks of white upon their glossy surface.

He turned again to the left, entering upon a broad highway that would lead him straight home at last; but he had almost reached the little village of Elmwood, which was the railway station, before he realized his cruelty to the splendid mare he bestrode.

Then indeed, he fell to a walk, patting Nora's neck affectionately and begging her to forgive him for his thoughtlessness.

The mare tossed her head in derision.