ide with a strong arm, as he went rapidly
in the direction of the cries.

"Courage! I am coming," he cried, as, gaining the shore of the pond, he
saw what had happened. Just beyond his halting-place there was a jutting
bank, and overhanging it a large tree, whose branches almost touched the
water beneath. At the top of the bank stood the elder of the two girls;
she had torn off the skirt of her riding-habit, and was about to leap
down into the water where a mass of floating yellow hair and a wisp of
white gown told their story of disaster. As he ran the stranger flung
off his coat, but there was no time to divest himself of his heavy
riding-boots, so in he plunged and struck out boldly with the air of a
strong and competent swimmer.

The pond, like many of our small inland lakes, was shallow for some
distance from the shore, and then suddenly shelved in unexpected
quarters, developing deep holes where the water was so cold that its
effect on a swimmer was almost dangerous. Into one of these depths the
little girl had evidently plunged, and realizing the cause of her sudden
disappearance the stranger dived with great rapidity at the spot where
the golden hair had gone down. His first attempt failed; but as the
child partially rose for the second time, he caught the little figure
and with skillful hand supported her against his shoulder, as he struck
out for the shore, which he reached quickly, but chilled almost to the
bone from the coldness of the water.

"Do not be so alarmed," he said, as Betty, with pallid cheeks and
trembling hands, knelt beside the unconscious child on the grass; "she
will revive; her heart beats and she is not very cold. Let me find my
coat," and he stumbled as he rose to go in search of it.

"It is here," gasped Betty; "I fetched it on my way down the slope; oh,
sir, do you think she lives?"

For answer the young man produced from an inner pocket of his shabby
garment a small flask, which he uncorked and held toward her.

"It is cognac," he said; "put a drop or two between her lips while I
chafe her hands--so; see, she revives," as the white lids quivered for a
second, and then the pretty blue eyes opened.

"Moppet, Moppet, my darling," cried her sister, "are you hurt? Did you
strike anything in your fall?"

"Why, Betty!" ejaculated the child, "why are you giving me nasty stuff;
here are the tansy leaves," and she held up her left hand, where tightly
clenched she had kept the herbs, whos