s had stopped and collected in so close a
group that I could not see whether one or both had been seriously
injured.

In less time than is taken in the telling, however, I had elbowed my way
through the well-meaning crowd to find Miss Cunningham sitting on the
edge of the grass nursing a twisted ankle, her lovely face looking white
and troubled.

The cause of the accident was already on her feet, and in the midst of
such voluble apologies and explanations that I could only conclude she,
at least, had suffered slightly.

"Miss Cunningham," I said, warning the girl of my presence; and she
looked up with a tremulous little cry of surprise and perhaps relief.

"Oh, I am so thankful!" she exclaimed. "I was just wondering what I
should do. But--but you will help me, I know."

"If you will let me," I responded, rather too eagerly. "I saw the
accident from a distance. I hope you are not much hurt."

"I don't quite know," she said, ruefully.

By this time we had been practically left alone. Seeing that an
acquaintance of the young lady's had opportunely appeared upon the
scene, the others, whose proffered assistance could now be dispensed
with, had one by one moved away.

"Is it your ankle?" I asked, stooping down over the dainty foot which
showed beneath the short bicycling dress.

"Yes; it seemed to turn under me as I fell, somehow. And my poor
machine! I know it must have had a terrible smash. I feel far worse
about it than I do about myself. But the whole thing is a punishment, I
suppose. I oughtn't to have come out alone. Lady Tressidy never allows
it, and will be very cross with me when she hears what has happened, I'm
afraid. I shan't have a bit more sympathy than I deserve, when it comes
out. I hadn't meant her to know at all, you see."

I could not imagine how even a woman could find it in her heart to
reproach the owner of those beautiful appealing eyes and exquisite lips,
quivering now, between smiles and tears, like those of a mutinous child.

If I had dared tell her how deep was the sympathy I felt! But I was only
afraid lest she might read it, and more, in my eyes.

Sympathetic though I was, however, I could not control my joy that,
since the accident _had_ happened, I--and no other--had been on the
spot to offer aid which she might deign to accept.

"Don't mind about your bicycle," I said. "I'm sure it's all right, or
can easily be made so again; and if you'll let me enter into the plot,
perhaps be