ammered forth:

"Miss Lawrence, of South Carolina, I believe."

"You are mistaken, Sir," said the lady, with the least shade of
coldness in her voice, but it fell upon Mr. Bartlett like the wind from
an iceberg--"I am not Miss Lawrence."

"I--I beg your pardon," he answered, somewhat confusedly. "You
resemble her; I expected to meet her here. Will you please tell her I
enquired for her? Here's my card!" Therewith he thrust both hands
into his vest pockets, extracted a card from one of them, and laid it
hastily upon the rock beside her.

"Bertha! Bertha!" rang through the glen, above the roar of the
waterfall. The remainder of the party which the young lady had
preceded now came into view descending toward her.

"Good-day, Miss Lawrence!" said Mr. Bartlett, again lifting his hat,
and retracing his steps. For his life he could not have passed her and
run the gauntlet of the faces of her friends upon the narrow path.
Every soul of them would have instantly seen what a fool he was.
Moreover, he had achieved enough for one day. The soldier who storms a
perilous breach and finds himself alive on the inside of it could not
be more astonished than he. "I blundered awfully," he thought; "but,
after all, it's the one way to learn."--"Who's your friend, Bertha?"
asked her brother, Dick Morris, the avant-guard of the party. "I never
saw the fellow before."

"If you had not frightened him by your sudden appearance," said she,
"you might have discovered. A Southerner, I suppose, though he don't
look like one. He addressed me as Miss Lawrence, of South Carolina,
and afterwards left me his card, to be given to her. What shall I do
with it?"

"Ha! the card will tell us who he is," said Dick, picking it up. He
instantly burst into a roar of laughter. "Ha! ha! This comes of
wearing a Bloomer, Bertha! Though I must say it's by no means
complimentary to your little feet. Who'd suspect _you_ of having
corns?"

"Dick, what _do_ you mean?"

"Ha! ha! no doubt I came at the nick of time to prevent him from
pulling off your shoes."

"DICK!"

Therewith she impatiently jerked the card from her brother's hand. It
was large, thick, handsomely glazed, and contained the following
inscription:

PROFESSOR HURLBUT,
Chiropodist
To her Majesty Queen Victoria, and the
Nobility of Great Britain.

"Incredible!" she exclaimed. "So young, and embarrassed in his
manners; how could he ever