She saw him before he saw her, and her first thought was the quick involuntary one, that here was succour coming towards her; but the second was not so cheerful. The second was, that this stranger would think it his duty to help her; that he would conceive criticisms, even if he did not utter them, as to the mistake of entrusting her with a burden she was not equal to; that he would assume more and more familiarity, perhaps treat her altogether as a little girl--talk again of the toys he had helped to choose, and all those injurious revolting particulars which had filled her with so much indignation on their previous meeting. The sudden rush and encounter of these thoughts distracting her mind when her body had need of all its support, made Dora’s limbs so tremble, and the light so go out of her eyes, that she found herself all at once unable to carry on her straight course, and awoke to the humiliating fact that she had stumbled to the support of the nearest area railing, that the book had slipped from under her tired arm, and that she was standing there, very near crying, holding it up between the rail and her knee. “Why, Miss Dora!” cried that young man. He would have passed, had it not been for that deplorable exhibition of weakness. But when his eye caught the half-ridiculous, wholly overwhelming misery of the slipping book, the knee put forth to save it, the slim figure bending over it, he was beside her in a moment. “Give it to me,” he cried, suiting the action to the word, and taking it from her as if it had been a feather. Well, she had herself said it was a feather at first. Dora, relieved, shook her tired arms, straightened her figure, and raised her head; with all her pride coming back. “Oh, please never mind. I had only got it out of balance. I am quite, quite able to carry it,” she cried. “Are you going far? And will you let me walk with you? It was indeed to see you I was going--not without a commission.” “To see me?” The drooping head was thrown back with a pride that was haughty and almost scornful. A princess could not have treated a rash intruder more completely _de haut en bas_. “To me! what could you have to say to me?” the girl seemed to say, in the tremendous superiority of her sixteen years. The young man laughed a little--one is not very wise at five and twenty on the subject of girls, yet he had experience enough to be amused by these remnants of the child in this half-developed maiden. “You are going this way?” he said, turning in the direction in which she had been going. “Then let me tell you while we walk. Miss Dora, you must remember this is not all presumption or intrusion on my side. I come from a lady who has a right to send you a message.” “I did not say you were intrusive,” cried Dora, blushing for shame. “You only looked it,” said young Gordon; “but you know that lady is my aunt too--at least, I have always called her aunt, for many, many years.”