The excitement had brought a glow to her lustrous eyes, and there was deepening of the pink tinge on the cheeks which made her complexion perfection itself.

She was still agitated, though striving hard to bring her feelings under control.
"We were driving at a brisk pace," she replied, "when a piece of paper blew across the road in front of Jack, and he was off like a shot." Tom noticed her use of the word "we," and knew whom she meant.
"Could not Mr.Catherwood control him ?" He glanced sideways at her when he asked the question, and noticed the scornful expression that came upon her face.
"He might have done so had he a spark of _your_ courage; but the instant Jack made his leap, Mr.Catherwood flung the lines over his back, and with a call to me to jump, he sprang out of the cart and left me alone.

If he had given me the lines, I could have managed Jack myself; but he wouldn't allow me even that poor privilege." "He must have lost his head." "Small loss to lose _such_ a head," exclaimed Miss Jennie, who evidently held a small opinion of her escort; "it's the last time I shall ever go riding with _him_." A queer thrill passed through Tom Gordon.

He was a fervent admirer of the young lady at his side; but he had worshiped her, as may be said, as we worship a fair and brilliant star.

It is something so far beyond our reach that we keep our admiration to ourself, and strive to drive the foolish feeling from our heart.
"I have no wish to injure Catherwood," was his thought; "but if he is such a coward as to desert a lady in peril, it is well she should know it before it is too late." When Mr.Warmore referred to the young man as not only contemplating a partnership in his business, but as intending marriage, Tom Gordon held not the slightest doubt of his full meaning.