ender was his son-in-law. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed,
hurrying into the yard. "What is this?"

The mare was standing out on the pavement with three men around her,
of whom one was holding her head, another was down on his knees
washing her wounds, and the third was describing the fatal nature of
the wounds which she had received. Traffick was standing at a little
distance, listening in silence to the implied rebukes of the groom.
"Good heavens, what is this?" repeated Sir Thomas, as he joined the
conclave.

"There are a lot of loose stones on that hill," said Traffick, "and
she tripped on one and came down, all in a lump, before you could
look at her. I'm awfully sorry, but it might have happened to any
one."

Sir Thomas knew how to fix his darts better than by throwing them
direct at his enemy. "She has utterly destroyed herself," said he,
addressing himself to the head-groom, who was busily employed with
the sponge in his hand.

"I'm afraid she has, Sir Thomas. The joint-oil will be sure to run on
both knees; the gashes is so mortal deep."

"I've driven that mare hundreds of times down that hill," said Sir
Thomas, "and I never knew her to trip before."

"Never, Sir Thomas," said the groom.

"She'd have come down with you to-day," said Mr. Traffick, defending
himself.

"It was my own fault, Bunsum. That's all that can be said about it."
Bunsum the groom, kneeling as he was, expressed, by his grimaces, his
complete agreement with this last opinion of his master. "Of course I
ought to have known that he couldn't drive," said Sir Thomas.

"A horse may fall down with anybody," said Mr. Traffick.

"You'd better take her and shoot her," said Sir Thomas, still
addressing the groom. "She was the best thing we had in the stable,
but now she is done for." With that he turned away from the yard
without having as yet addressed a word to his son-in-law.

This was so intolerable that even Mr. Traffick could not bear it in
silence. "I have told you that I am very sorry," said he, following
Sir Thomas closely, "and I don't know what a man can do more."

"Nothing,--unless it be not to borrow a horse again."

"You may be sure I will never do that."

"I'm not sure of it at all. If you wanted another to-morrow you'd ask
for him if you thought you could get him."

"I call that very uncivil, Sir Thomas,--and very unkind."

"Bother!" said Sir Thomas. "It is no good in being kind to a fellow
like you. Did you ever hear