nd struck her, clasped the heavy
books with one arm, and turned westward on her way to the railway
station. It seemed to her that the city held that night no girl so
desolate as herself.

As she was passing the street lamp at the first corner, some one stopped
suddenly. "Good heavens! Miss Douglas--Anne--is that you?" said a voice.
She looked up. It was Gregory Dexter.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

"Loke who that ... most intendeth ay
To do the generous deedes that he can,
And take _him_ for the greatest gentleman."

--CHAUCER.

"Anne! Is it you?" repeated Dexter.

"Yes," she replied, having seen that it was impossible to escape, since
he was standing directly in her path. Then she tried to smile. "I should
not have thought you would have known me in this twilight."

"I believe I should know you anywhere, even in total darkness. But where
are you going? I will accompany you."

"I am on my way to X station, to take a train."

"Let me carry those books for you. X station? That is at some distance;
would it not be better to have a carriage? Here, boy, run and call a
carriage. There will be a half-dollar for you if you make haste."

He was the same as ever, prompt, kind, and disposed to have his own way.
But Anne, who on another occasion might have objected, now stood beside
him unopposing. She _was_ weary, cold, and disheartened, and she was
glad he was there. He had made her take his arm immediately, and even
that small support was comforting. The carriage came, they rolled away,
Anne leaning back against the cushions, and breathing in the grateful
sense of being cared for and protected, taken from the desolate and
darkening streets which otherwise she must have traversed alone.

"I only arrived in town to-day," Dexter was saying; "and, on my way to a
friend's house where I am to dine, I intended calling upon Mrs.
Heathcote. I was going there when I met you. I should have inquired
about you immediately, for I have but just seen the account of the
disposal of Miss Vanhorn's estate, and was thinking of you. I supposed,
Miss Douglas, that you were to be her heir."

"No."

"She certainly allowed me to suppose so."

"I do not think she ever had any such intention," replied Anne.

"You are living near the city?"

"Yes; at Lancaster. I give lessons in town."

"And you come in and out on these freezing days, and walk to and from
the station?"

"It is not always so cold."

"Very well; I am