"You're very welcome," he returned, and, seized by a sudden paternal tenderness, he stooped and kissed the red-lipped mouth. She stepped back with a sharp "Oh!" mingled of anger and the pain of her twisted ankle. "Oh! Why did you do that? We were having such fun, and--and now you've spoiled the whole afternoon. What a--a perfectly silly thing to do!" He quailed before the bayonets flashing in the blue eyes. "I was carried away," he said humbly. "I hate you!" "No, no. Don't--please don't do that. Of course I was wrong--unpardonably wrong, I suppose--but you looked so young, and--well, so adorable, that I---- Oh, please don't hate me!" His gloom was so profound that, in spite of herself, she felt her wrath begin to melt. "If you're sure you're very sorry----" "I'm in the dust," he evaded. "Then--all right." She smiled a little, but with caution--he should not be allowed to think himself too easily restored to favor. "I frightened you, didn't I? And you ought to have been frightened. But to show you I trust you now, I'll use your arm as a crutch. Come on. Oh, _what_ a delicious sight for poor Aunty Landis!" Truly enough, the spectacle brought to her feet a motherly-looking woman who had been knitting on the porch of White Cottage. "Good gracious, child! What's the matter?" She fluttered down the steps to meet the bedraggled adventurers. "Have you hurt yourself, dearie? Oh, dear, dear! What is it? Have you broken your leg?" "I'm all right, Aunty. Don't worry. My ankle _might_ be turned a little, that's all. This gentleman has been very kind to me, and helped me home." The woman made Fessenden a spasmodic bow. "I'm sure we're much obliged to you, sir. Is it your ankle, dearie? I told you not to go in wading. The idea of such a thing, and you a young lady!" "Now, Aunty, please don't scold me--not until my foot's fixed, at any rate." Although the girl's lips quivered warningly, Fessenden could have sworn her eyes laughed slyly. But the older woman's vexation was effectually dissolved by the other's pitiful tone. "There, there! You poor silly baby! Come right in, and I'll put your foot in hot water and mustard. That'll take the soreness out." She passed her arm lovingly about the girl's slender shoulders and was leading her away without more ado. The girl hung back. "Aunty, I haven't thanked him--half." "I'm sure the gentleman's been very good," said Mrs. Landis, "but he knows your foot ought to be soaked in hot water just as soon as can be. There won't be any too much time to do it before supper, any way." "By all means," agreed Fessenden. "I'm very glad if I've been of service." Mischief awoke in his glance. "I've had ample reward for anything I've been able to do." The blood crept into the girl's cheeks, but she was not afraid to meet his eyes.