st--was it a tweed arm or the bank? She moved a little, and found
that first impressions are apt to prove misleading. It was the bank. She
opened her eyes to see a brown, red-lined hat on the ground beside her,
half full of water, through which she could dimly discern the golden
submerged name of the maker. She seemed to have been contemplating it
with vague interest for about an hour, when she became aware that some
one was dabbing her forehead with a wet silk handkerchief.

"Better?" asked Charles's voice.

"Oh!" gasped Ruth, suddenly trying to sit up, but finding the attempt
resulted only in the partial movement of a finger somewhere in the
distance. "Have I really--surely, surely, I was not so abject as to
_faint_?"

"Truth," said Charles, with a reassured look in his quick, anxious eyes,
"obliges me to say you did."

"I thought better of myself than that."

"Pride goes before a fall or a faint."

"Oh, dear!" turning paler than ever. "Where is Molly?"

"She is all right," said Charles, hastily, applying the
pocket-handkerchief again. "Don't alarm yourself, and pray don't try to
get up. You can see just as much of the view sitting down. Molly has
gone for the donkey-cart."

"And that dreadful man?"

"That dreadful man has also departed. By-the-way, did you see his face?
Would you know him again if the policeman succeeds in finding him?"

"No; I never looked round. I only saw, when he began to run to cut us
off at the gate, that he was lame."

"H'm!" said Charles, reflectively. Then more briskly, with a new access
of dabbing, "How is the faintness going on?"

"Capitally," replied Ruth, with a faint, amused smile; "but if it does
not seem ungrateful, I should be very thankful if I might be spared the
rest of the water in the hat, or if it might be poured over me at once,
if you don't wish it to be wasted."

"Have I done too much? I imagined my services were invaluable. Let me
help you to find your own handkerchief, if you would like a dry one for
a change. Ah, what a good shot into that labyrinth of drapery! You have
found it for yourself. You are certainly better."

"But my self-respect," replied Ruth, drying her face, "is gone forever!"

"I lost mine years ago," said Charles, carefully dusting Ruth's hat,
"but I got over it. I had no idea those bows were supported by a wire
inside. One lives and learns."

"I never did such a thing before," continued Ruth, ruefully. "I have
always felt a sort of co