But nothing impeded her way.

She fled through a maze of wagons, carriages, automobiles, and trolley-cars, until she passed the whirl of the great city, and at last was free again and out in the open country.
She came toward evening to a little cottage on the edge of a pretty suburb.

The cottage was covered with roses, and the front yard was full of great old-fashioned flowers.

On the porch sat a plain little old lady in a rocking-chair, knitting.

There was a little gate with a path leading up to the door, and at the side another open gate with a road leading around to the back of the cottage.
Elizabeth saw, and murmuring, "O 'our Father,' please hide me!" she dashed into the driveway, and tore up to the side of the piazza at a full gallop.
She jumped from the horse; and, leaving him standing panting with his nose to the fence, and a tempting strip of clover in front of him where he could graze when he should get his breath, she ran up the steps, and flung herself in a miserable little heap at the feet of the astonished old lady.
"O, please, please, won't you let me stay here a few minutes, and tell me what to do?
I am so tired, and I have had such a dreadful, awful time!" "Why, dearie me!" said the old lady.