"I am Miss Hathaway's niece, and I have never been here before.
Where does she live?"

"Up yander."

He flourished the discarded fish-pole which served as a whip, and
pointed out a small white house on the brow of the hill.
Reflection brought him the conviction that his remark concerning
Miss Hathaway was a social mistake, since his passenger sat very
straight, and asked no more questions.

The weary wheels creaked, but the collapse which Miss Thorne
momentarily expected was mercifully postponed. Being gifted with
imagination, she experienced the emotion of a wreck without
bodily harm. As in a photograph, she beheld herself suddenly
projected into space, followed by her suit case, felt her new hat
wrenched from her head, and saw hopeless gravel stains upon the
tailored gown which was the pride of her heart. She thought a
sprained ankle would be the inevitable outcome of the fall, but
was spared the pain of it, for the inability to realise an actual
hurt is the redeeming feature of imagination.

Suddenly there was a snort of terror from one of the horses, and
the carriage stopped abruptly. Ruth clutched her suit case and
umbrella, instantly prepared for the worst; but Joe reassured
her.

"Now don't you go and get skeered, Miss," he said, kindly;
"'taint nothin' in the world but a rabbit. Mamie can't never get
used to rabbits, someways." He indicated one of the horses--a