in its flying white dress leading the crowd.

The lowing of the cows and the wild neighing of the horses rang above the
roar of the flames.

Before Ben could reach the spot Marion had opened every stall. Two cows
leaped out to safety, but not a horse would move from its stall, and each
moment wilder and more pitiful grew their death cries.

Marion rushed to Ben, her eyes dilated, her face as white as the dress she
wore.

"Oh, Ben, Queen won't come out! What shall I do?"

"You can do nothing, child. A horse won't come out of a burning stable
unless he's blindfolded. They'll all be burned to death."

"Oh! no!" the girl cried in agony.

"They'd trample you to death if you tried to get them out. It can't be
helped. It's too late."

As Ben looked back at the gathering crowd, Marion suddenly snatched a
horse blanket, lying at the door, ran with the speed of a deer to the
pond, plunged in, sprang out, and sped back to the open door of Queen's
stall, through which her shrill cry could be heard above the others.

As the girl ran toward the burning building, her thin white dress clinging
close to her exquisite form, she looked like the marble figure of a sylph
by the hand of some great master into which God had suddenly breathed the
breath of life.

As they saw her purpose, a cry of horror rose from the crowd, her mother's
scream loud above the rest.

Ben rushed to catch her, shouting:

"Marion! Marion! She'll trample you to death!"

He was too late. She leaped into the stall. The crowd held their breath.
There was a moment of awful suspense, and the mare sprang through the open
door with the little white figure clinging to her mane and holding the
blanket over her head.

A cheer rang above the roar of the flames. The girl did not loose her hold
until her beautiful pet was led to a place of safety, while she clung to
her neck and laughed and cried for joy. First her mother, then Margaret,
Mrs. Cameron, and Elsie took her in their arms.

As Ben approached the group, Elsie whispered to him: "Kiss her!"

Ben took her hand, his eyes full of unshed tears, and said:

"The bravest deed a woman ever did--you're a heroine, Marion!"

Before she knew it he stooped and kissed her.

She was very still for a moment, smiled, trembled from head to foot,
blushed scarlet, took her mother by the hand, and without a word hurried
to the house.

Poor Becky was whining among the excited crowd and sought in vain for
Marion. At l