CHAPTER IV.

MAMMA'S DRIVE.

IN the afternoon, just as mamma had finished her dinner, a beautiful carriage with two prancing horses drove up to the door. A lady had called to take her out for a drive in the park.

Mamma hesitated. She was timid about riding; and then it was Lily's birthday, and there were so many little ones in the nursery.

But papa came from the study, and ended the matter by saying,—

"You must go, my dear. The bracing air will do you good."

While she was absent, the children had various games. Sometimes they dressed up, and played they were visitors from the country. Helen was the lady of the house, and Frank and Russell made her a call; while Lily sat in a low chair, and rocked her dolly; and then they brought in the rocking-horse, and played go a journey.

By and by they grew tired, and were contented to sit quietly on the sofa, while Aunt Hatty told them a story. She had only just finished, when mamma returned, not refreshed, but pale and weary.

"What has happened?" asked Sarah, eagerly.

"Such a scene as I have witnessed!" exclaimed mamma, falling back in a chair quite exhausted. "I was so glad I didn't take Lily."

"Please, mamma, tell us about it," asked Helen.

"In the first place," began mamma, "Mrs. Groves' horses were perfectly furious, and would not allow anything to pass them. I grew very nervous, when all at once there was a crashing of wheels; and there we were locked in with a great team.

"I imagined Mrs. Groves wished herself anywhere but riding with a nervous woman, and I'm sure I was sorry that I had consented to go. We backed, and the teamster backed, ha'ing and geeing lustily, and at last we were relieved.

"Now, I thought, we shall have a clear space; and I'll try to be brave. But presently we heard a great outcry and shouting behind us.

"'Stop them! Oh, stop them!'

"I looked from the window, and saw everybody running; then they all began to press to the sides of the street, and drivers urged their horses forward at their utmost speed.

"'What is it, James?' screamed Mrs. Groves through the speaking-trumpet.

"'It is horses running away, ma'am,' he answered back.

"'Stop, then; and we'll get out.'

"'You'd be smashed entirely, ma'am, in the crowd.'

"Just at this moment, and when I was trembling all over, a pair of magnificent horses dashed past, in an open barouche; and there, standing in it, with her hands stretched out in supplication, was a dear little girl just about as old as Lily. As they rushed past, I heard her say,—

"'Oh, do stop them! Do please stop them!'

"I couldn't help it; I just put my handkerchief to my face, and had a good cry."

"Did the little girl pray to God to make the horses stop running?" faltered Lily, her lip quivering as she winked back her tears.

"I don't know, darling, but she looked like a child who had been taught to pray."

"I would pray for her, mamma, I would."

"My love, I did pray that the good God might spare her life; and I thanked him that my own darlings were not in such danger."

"Was she killed then?" asked Helen, her eyes growing very large.

"No, dear. Mrs. Groves told James to drive on as fast as he could. I forgot all about my own fright, in my anxiety to find out whether the poor little child was saved."

"Why didn't somebody stop the horses, mamma?"

"They did try again and again, Helen; but with no success. Presently another carriage dashed by, the driver whipping the horse to his utmost speed. I saw a poor man leaning back on the seat, looking very pale, while the blood was oozing from a wound on his head. The crowd screamed out that it was the father of the little girl who had been thrown from the barouche. A gentleman picked him up and wanted to do something for him; but he only pointed up the street, and gasped out,—

"'My child!'"

Poor Lily could keep back her tears no longer, and laying her head in Sarah's lap began to sob.

"Lily," said her mamma, "look up, and hear me finish the story.

"We followed the other carriages until we came to a great crowd of policemen, who were standing about the barouche. The brave little girl had been taken out as soon as the horses were stopped, and there she was in her father's arms. Oh, how he strained her to his breast, as he said,—

"'Thank God! She is spared to me!'"

"Did his head bleed then, mamma?"

"Yes, Helen; but he did not seem to think of himself at all. Tears were running down the cheeks of many who stood by."

"How did they get home, mamma?"

"The gentleman who picked up the father offered to take them to their house, and the policemen took care of the horses till the driver came up."

"I guess the little girl will say a good many prayers to God to-night," exclaimed Lily, looking up with a brightening face.