My preserver sat half in and half out of the carriage, leaning his white, well-shaped hand upon the splashboard. The bandaged side of his face was towards me. The ponies went quietly enough; they had enjoyed their gallop, and were, I think, a little blown. I had leisure to take a good survey of my companion. When we had thus travelled for a quarter of a mile in silence he turned his face towards me. We looked at each other for about half a minute, and then both burst out laughing. "You didn't know me, Miss Coventry! not the least in the world," exclaimed the cripple, pulling the bandage off his face, and showing another eye quite as handsome as the one that had previously been uncovered. "How could you do so, Captain Lovell?" was all I could reply. "Conceive if my aunt had found you out, or even if any one should recognize you now. What would people think of _me_? But how did you know we were going to London to-day, and how could you tell the ponies would run away?" "Never mind how I knew your movements, Miss Coventry," was the reply. "Kate! may I call you Kate? it's such a soft, sweet name," he added, now sitting altogether _inside_ the carriage, which certainly was a small one for two people. "You don't know how I've watched for you, and waited and prowled about, during the last few days. You don't know how anxious I've been only for one word--even one look. I've spent hours out on the Down just to see the flutter of your white dress as you went through the shrubbery--even at that distance it was something to gaze at you and know you were there. Last night I crossed the ice under your window." "You did indeed!" I replied with a laugh; "and what a ducking you must have got!"