"Whom do you mean, my dear?"

"Whom? whom? Why, Beulah Benton, of course! Where is she? Come out

of that corner, you quaint, solemn statue!" She held out her hand,

and a warm, glad smile broke over her pallid face as Beulah

approached her.

"You certainly created a very decided sensation. Beulah made quite a

passable Medea, with her inky hair trailing over the back of the

seat, and her little hands grasping the reins with desperate energy.

By Phoebus! you turned that corner at the bank like an electric

bolt. Shake hands, Beulah! After this you will do in any emergency."

The doctor looked at her with an expression of paternal pride and

affection.

"I feel very grateful to you," began Mr. Graham; but Beulah cut

short his acknowledgments by saying hastily: "Sir, I did nothing at all; Dr. Asbury is resolved to make a heroine

of me, that is all. You owe me nothing."

At this moment the coachman limped into the room, with garments

dabbled with mud, and inquired anxiously whether the young ladies

were hurt.

"No, you son of Pluto; not hurt at all, thanks to your careful

driving," answered the doctor, putting his hands in his pockets and

eying the discomfited coachman humorously.

"Were you hurt by your fall?" asked Beulah.

"Considerable bumped and thumped, but not much hurt, thank you,

miss. I was awfully scared when I rose out of that choking gutter,

and saw you standing up, and the horses flying like ole Satan

himself was after them. I am marvelous glad nothing was hurt. And

now, master, sir, I want you to go to the mayor and have this 'ere

firecracker business stopped. A parcel of rascally boys set a match

to a whole pack and flung 'em right under Andrew Jackson's feet! Of

course I couldn't manage him after that. I 'clare to gracious! it's

a sin and a shame the way the boys in this town do carry on

Christmas times and, indeed, every other time!" Wilson hobbled out,

grumbling audibly.

"Beulah, you must come and spend Christmas at my house. The girls

and my wife were talking about it to-day, and concluded to send the

carriage for you early in the morning." The doctor drew on his

gloves as he spoke.

"They may spare themselves the trouble, sir; she spends it with me,"

answered Cornelia.

"With you! After such a frolic as you two indulged in this evening,

you ought not to be trusted together. If I had not been so anxious

about you I could have laughed heartily at the doleful countenances

of those two young gents, as they picked themselves up out of the

mud. Such rueful plight as their lemon-colored gloves were in! I

will send Hartwell to see you to-morrow, Cornelia. A merry Christmas

to you all, in spite of your Mazeppa episode." His good-humored

countenance vanished.




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