rear with two hunting-whips and Peregrine's
cap. "How on earth any one would think of riding over such a place as
that!" said the judge. But then, when he had been a young man it had
not been the custom for barristers to go out hunting.

Madeline, as she saw the wounded man carefully laid on the back seat
of the carriage, almost wished that she could have her mother's place
that she might support him. Would they be careful enough with him?
Would they remember how terrible must be the pain of that motion to
one so hurt as he was? And then she looked into his face as he was
made to lean back, and she saw that he still smiled. Felix Graham was
by no means a handsome man; I should hardly sin against the truth if
I were to say that he was ugly. But Madeline, as she looked at him
now lying there utterly without colour but always with that smile on
his countenance, thought that no face to her liking had ever been
more gracious. She still rode close to him as they went down the
grassy road, saying never a word. And Miss Furnival rode there also,
somewhat in the rear, condoling with the judge as to his wet feet.

"Miss Furnival," he said, "when a judge forgets himself and goes out
hunting he has no right to expect anything better. What would your
father have said had he seen me clambering up the bank with young
Orme's hunting-cap between my teeth? I positively did."

"He would have rushed to assist you," said Miss Furnival, with a
little burst of enthusiasm which was hardly needed on the occasion.
And then Peregrine came after them leading Graham's horse. He had
been compelled to return to the field and ride both the horses back
into the wood; one after the other, while the footman held them. That
riding back over fences in cold blood is the work that really tries
a man's nerve. And a man has to do it too when no one is looking on.
How he does crane and falter and look about for an easy place at such
a moment as that! But when the blood is cold, no places are easy.

The procession got back to Noningsby without adventure, and Graham
as a matter of course was taken up to his bed. One of the servants
had been despatched to Alston for a surgeon, and in an hour or
two the extent of the misfortune was known. The right arm was
broken--"very favourably," as the doctor observed. But two ribs were
broken--"rather unfavourably." There was some talk of haemorrhage and
inward wounds, and Sir Jacob from Saville Row was suggested by Lady