"You will come," repeated he, leading her gently along towards the bank of the stream, "because you know I would not lead you into danger, and because if you do not try to conquer such fears, they will make you very unhappy through life. Don't you wish to be useful and do good to others, when you grow older?" "Oh, yes," replied Helen, with animation--"but," added she, despondingly, "I never shall." "It depends upon yourself," replied her friend; "some of the greatest men that ever lived, were once timid little children. They made themselves great by overcoming their fears, by having a strong will." They were now close to the water, which, just where they stood, was as still and smooth as glass. Helen saw herself in the clear, blue mirror, and laughed aloud--then she blushed to think how strange and ugly she looked. Eagerly scooping up the water in the hollow of her hand, she bathed her face, and removed the disfiguring stains. "You have no napkin," said the young doctor, taking a snowy linen handkerchief from his pocket, which emitted a sweet, faint, rose-like perfume. "Will this do?" He wiped her face, which looked fairer than ever after the ablution, and then first one and then the other of her trembling hands, for they still trembled from nervous agitation. "How kind, how good he is!" thought Helen, as his hand passed gently over her brow, smoothing back the moist and tangled hair, then glided against her cheek, while he arranged the twisted bonnet and untied the dangling strings, which had tightened into a hard and obstinate knot. "I wonder what makes him so kind and good to me?" When they came to the fence, surrounding the strawberry-field, Helen's steps involuntarily grew slower, and she hung back heavily on the hand of her companion. Her old fears came rushing over her, drowning her new-born courage. Arthur laid his hand on the top rail, and vaulted over as lightly as a bird, then held out his arms towards her. "Climb, and I will catch you," said he, with an encouraging smile. Poor little Helen felt constrained to obey him, though she turned white as snow--and when he took her in his arms, he felt her heart beating and fluttering like the wings of a caged humming-bird. "Ah, I see the silver bucket," he cried, "all filled with strawberries. The enemy is fled; the coast is clear." He still held her in his arms, while he stooped and lifted the bucket, then again vaulted over the fence, as if no burden impeded his movements. "You are safe," said he, "and you can now gladden your mother's heart by this sweet offering. Are you sorry you came?" "Oh! no," she replied, "I feel happy now." She insisted upon his eating part of the strawberries, but he refused, and as they walked home, he gathered green leaves and flowers, and made a garland round them. "What makes you so good to me?" she exclaimed, with an irresistible impulse, looking gratefully in his face.