How strange that it has not occurred to me before, or that Henry should not have thought of it! 'Age before beauty!' Yes, just so,--just so!" While he was meditating thus happily, he heard behind him that curious, irregular beat which only the hoofs of a runaway horse can make, and the whirl of flying wheels swinging from side to side.

He sprang to one side of the road, his little heart pounding with sudden fright, and looked back to see the rectory phaeton, reeling and almost overturning, dragged madly at the heels of the shaggy little pony.

They came flying toward him.

Mr.Denner caught a glimpse, through the cloud of dust, of Lois Howe's white face, and a shrinking figure clinging to her.

A gray veil fluttered across the face, so that Mr.Denner could not tell who it was, but instantly it flashed through his mind, "It is one of them!" He threw down his basket and rod, and braced himself for the shock of the encounter with the plunging horse; his little nerves, never very firm, were strung like steel.