ere pallid; pallid, too,
her grey and deep-set eyes with greenish tints; above all, pale the ashy
mass of hair coiled under her grey cap.

"Th-thanks!" she said; "I shall be all right directly. I'm sorry to have
made a fuss."

She bit her lips and smiled.

"I 'm sure you're hurt; do let me go for--" stammered Shelton. "I can
easily get help."

"Help!" she said, with a stony little laugh; "oh, no, thanks!"

She left the gate, and crossed the road to where he held the horse.
Shelton, to conceal embarrassment, looked at the horse's legs, and
noticed that the grey was resting one of them. He ran his hand down.

"I 'm afraid," he said, "your horse has knocked his off knee; it's
swelling."

She smiled again.

"Then we're both cripples."

"He'll be lame when he gets cold. Would n't you like to put him in the
stable here? I 'm sure you ought to drive home."

"No, thanks; if I 'm able to ride him he can carry me. Give me a hand
up."

Her voice sounded as though something had offended her. Rising from
inspection of the horse's leg, Shelton saw Antonia and Toddles standing
by. They had come through a wicketgate leading from the fields.

The latter ran up to him at once.

"We saw it," he whispered--"jolly smash-up. Can't I help?"

"Hold his bridle," answered Shelton, and he looked from one lady to the
other.

There are moments when the expression of a face fixes itself with
painful clearness; to Shelton this was such a moment. Those two faces
close together, under their coverings of scarlet and of grey, showed a
contrast almost cruelly vivid. Antonia was flushed, her eyes had grown
deep blue; her look of startled doubt had passed and left a question in
her face.

"Would you like to come in and wait? We could send you home, in the
brougham," she said.

The lady called Mrs. Foliot stood, one arm across the crupper of her
saddle, biting her lips and smiling still her enigmatic smile, and it
was her face that stayed most vividly on Shelton's mind, its ashy hail,
its pallor, and fixed, scornful eyes.

"Oh, no, thanks! You're very kind."

Out of Antonia's face the timid, doubting friendliness had fled, and was
replaced by enmity. With a long, cold look at both of them she turned
away. Mrs. Foliot gave a little laugh, and raised her foot for Shelton's
help. He heard a hiss of pain as he swung her up, but when he looked at
her she smiled.

"Anyway," he said impatiently, "let me come and see you don't break
down