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'Indeed, I am not hurt; not the least little bit,' gasped Mary, who had
recovered her senses by this time. 'I was only frightened, and it was
such a surprise to see you and Maulevrier.'
A surprise--yes--a surprise which had set her heart throbbing so
violently as to render her speechless. Had horse or shaft-point struck
her ever so, she would have hardly been more tremulous than she felt at
this moment. Never had she hoped to see him again. He had set his all
upon one cast--loved, wooed, and lost her sister. Why should he ever
come again? What was there at Fellside worth coming for? And then she
remembered what her grandmother thought of him. He was a hanger-on, a
sponge, a led captain. He was Maulevrier's Umbra, and must go where his
patron went. It was a hard thing so to think of him, and Mary's heart
sank at the thought that Lady Maulevrier's worldly wisdom might have
reckoned aright.
'It was very foolish of me to run into the horse,' said Mary, while Mr.
Hammond stood waiting for her to recover herself.
'It was very foolish of Maulevrier to run into you.


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