You know the Warburtons, don't you?
They haven't an ounce of manners between them--themselves, or their ponies, or anything else belonging to them.

Well! They tore along as if possessed----" "The Warburtons ?" "No, the ponies; don't be silly ?" "_Such_ a relief!" "And I really think they would have taken me over a precipice.

You can see"-- holding out her exquisite little hands--"how inadequate these would be to deal with the Warburton ponies.

But for the timely help of an elderly gentleman and a young girl--she looked a mere child----" "This Miss Bolton ?" "Yes.

The old gentleman caught the ponies' heads--so did the girl.
You know my slender wrists--they were almost powerless from the strain, but that _girl!_ her wrists seemed made of iron.