[...] "The terrified pony ran. Then as the hail storm increased in violence, she crouched down and I was about to spring from the carriage when a hand restrained me. "'You are safer there, ' said Mr. Ashley, for it was he who spread the carriage robe over the pony and encouraged her to rise; then he stepped into the carriage, took the lines from my trembling hands, and, turning about, drove to the shelter of a large tree. It was all the work of a moment, and he had scarcely glanced at me until I spoke, thanking him for his assistance. "'The storm will soon be over, ' he remarked in response. 'Will you allow me to see you safely home? My name is Norman Ashley and my home is in a village near Baltimore with my widowed sister, Mrs. Brinsfield. I am an artist and, with several of my fellow-artists, am traveling upon a sketching tour. They have gone further west, I remaining in Woodmont, having found some picturesque views for sketching and putting later[...].