A GENTLEWOMAN. 139 



her courage, generosity, and kindness which rouse him 

 from his usual condition of -insouciance to a state of the 

 most fervent enthusiasm. 



One day it appears, in the course of a run, Florence 

 Earle and Wynnerly came to a fence almost side by 

 side, and rose at it simultaneously. Wynnerly got over, 

 and, glancing towards his companion, was alarmed to 

 see her horse, a new one that had gone clumsily before, 

 struggling to its legs, and its rider on the ground. He 

 pulled up, caught the horse, and returned to the spot 

 where Florence Earle had just made an ineffectual effort 

 to rise. 



"Thank you so much, Mr. Wynnerly. How kind of 

 you to stop ; but pray do not lose your place," she said 

 as he helped her up. 



" You are hurt, I am afraid. Miss Earle ?" he inquired. 



" Not at all, thank you/' she replied, supporting her- 

 self against her horse. " My horse slipped on landing, 

 but there's no harm done. I shall be so much grieved 

 if I keep you — do pray ride on." 



Just then her servant came up, and she continued her 

 persuasions to Wynnerly not to lose his day on her 

 account. He, however, persisting that she was hurt, 

 presently found that she had broken her collar-bone and 

 sprained her ankle. 



" In pain as she was," Wynnerly told us, " she thought 

 a great deal more about my losing a day's hunting than 

 her own injuries. We helped her into the saddle, and 

 walked slowly homeward. It was all through the blun- 



