[Illustration: "_Her sweet kind face as white as a shroud._"]
"Shush, shush, don't be a fool, Shorje," said some fellow, pushing me away; "ze gairl is only what you called shtunned. All raight, all raight, in ten skips of ze vlea. My tear, I am ze dochtor."
I went across the road, and stood by Jackson Stoneman, who was standing as firm as a rock, and pretending to play with the whip he had picked up. "Look here," I said, "she will never pay another pike."
"Take a turn with me, my dear fellow," he replied; "Hopmann will get on better without us. My housekeeper's mother lives round the corner. Though the Lord knows that if all we want is a woman-- Lord Melladew, I am so sorry for your little accident. You mustn't wear yellow spats, the next time you go shooting. Garrod will help you to your inn, and the doctor will come, when he has seen to this more urgent case. Garrod, let his lordship throw all his weight on you. Stop a moment. Send your boy at full speed to 'The Bell,' and order their low four-wheeler here. He is not to say why, for fear of frightening Lady Cranleigh. And let him take that villain of a pony to 'The Bell.'"
In less than an hour, I had the great joy of hearing that Grace was quite conscious, and had no limbs broken, nor any other injury that a few days would not cure. When the pony bolted at the shrieks and kicks and swaying figure of his lordship, a branch across the road had swept my sister from the saddle, but luckily it did not strike any vulnerable part, unless the part that often wounds a man is such. In a word it was her lump of hair, or what ladies call their _chignon_, into which she was obliged to coil her tresses tight for riding, that received the impact of the too obtrusive tree. But I scarcely knew what to conclude about the doctor, or Stoneman himself, who had been so uneasy about a young Earl hanging out so near our Grace, when, as sure as English words were ever uttered by a German, I heard Hopmann whisper this condolence to himself--"Zat was ze graidest shot as ever I did make. One fire, leetle bepper, bring me down two bagients."
Thus again, without any effort of his own, was the clever stockbroker quit of rivalry; for although the Earl did not leave the village for some weeks, he was not in a condition to do much poetic wooing, even if he could have found a partner. And this was not the only good result from that serious double accident; for the necessity of daily enquiry at our cottage became so pressing, and Stoneman so gallantly rose to this occasion, that the stiffness and coldness which had hitherto marked my mother's reception of him could no longer be maintained, but glided very quietly into goodwill and gratitude. All of us began to forgive him, more and more, for the crime of not belonging to an ancient county family, while the merits of his affluence almost drove us to maintain them against his own indifference.