his
inability to recognize Mrs. Biggs's squat roof and lilacs and peonies.

The storm which had abated for a short time was increasing again. The
peals of thunder were more frequent, and with each flash of lightning
the horses grew more unmanageable, until at last they flew along the
highway at a speed which rocked the carriage from side to side, and
began at last to alarm its occupants. Eloise in her corner was holding
fast to the strap, when a lurid flame filled the carriage for an instant
with a blaze of light. She had removed her hat, and her face,
silhouetted against the dark cushions, startled both the young men with
its beauty. It was very white, except the cheeks which were flushed with
excitement. Her lips were apart, but her chief beauty was in her eyes,
which were full of terror, and which shone like stars as they looked
from one young man to the other.

"Oh, I am afraid. Let me out. I'd rather walk," she cried, starting to
her feet and grasping the handle of the door.

"Please be quiet. There is no danger. You must not get out," Howard
said, laying both his hands on hers, which he held for a moment, and
pressed by way of reassuring her as he pushed her gently back into her
seat.

She felt the pressure and resented it, and releasing her hands put them
behind her, lest in the darkness they should be touched again. The same
lightning which had showed her face to Howard had also given her a
glimpse of his black eyes kindling with surprise and admiration at a
beauty he had not expected. A lurch of the carriage sent Jack from his
seat, and Eloise felt him close beside her. Was he going to squeeze her
hands, too? She didn't know, and was holding them closely pressed behind
her, when there was another flash, a deafening peal of thunder, a crash,
and the next she knew the rain was falling upon her face, her head was
lying against some one's arm, and two pairs of hands were tugging at her
collar and jacket.

"Do you think she is dead?" was asked, in the voice which had told her
not to be afraid.

"Dead!" a second voice replied. "She cannot be dead. She must not be.
Miss Smith, Miss Smith! Where are you hurt?"

It was on the arm of this speaker she was lying, and she felt his breath
on her face as he bent over her. With a great effort she moved her head
and answered, "I'm not dead, nor hurt either, except my foot, which is
twisted under me."

"Thank God!" Jack said, and instantly the two pairs of hands groped