"I had time to prepare myself, and he was easily controlled. May I
ask how it happened?"
He was sure he never saw one so beautiful as she. The excitement had
brought a glow to her lustrous eyes, and there was deepening of the pink
tinge on the cheeks which made her complexion perfection itself. She was
still agitated, though striving hard to bring her feelings under control.
"We were driving at a brisk pace," she replied, "when a piece of paper
blew across the road in front of Jack, and he was off like a shot."
Tom noticed her use of the word "we," and knew whom she meant.
"Could not Mr. Catherwood control him?"
He glanced sideways at her when he asked the question, and noticed the
scornful expression that came upon her face.
"He might have done so had he a spark of _your_ courage; but the instant
Jack made his leap, Mr. Catherwood flung the lines over his back, and with
a call to me to jump, he sprang out of the cart and left me alone. If he
had given me the lines, I could have managed Jack myself; but he wouldn't
allow me even that poor privilege."
"He must have lost his head.
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