By this time he had brushed his hat, and, passing his hand over his short waves of dark hair, had found and removed the bit of leaf which had distressed Barbara. She advanced a step, perhaps emboldened a little by that passing smile. "Oh, I beg your pardon," she said, "but when you slipped you got some earth on your coat." (She fancied that "earth" sounded a little more dignified than "mud" or "dirt," and that he might not mind it quite so much.) "Please let me brush it off for you." She looked up at him with a pleading glance and produced a filmy little feminine handkerchief. He eyed her, drawing back. "No!" he ejaculated; and then, more mildly, "No, thank you. I can manage. No, thank you." "I wish----" Barbara began, but she said no more, for the expression of his face changed so suddenly that she looked over her shoulder to discover the cause. A gentleman stood a few steps away, gazing at them in unconcealed surprise. A small, neat, black-clothed gentleman, with bright grey eyes and white hair and whiskers, who wore a very tall hat and carried a smart little cane. "Uncle!" the girl exclaimed, and her uplifted hand dropped loosely by her side. CHAPTER II. AN UNEXPECTED INVITATION. The old gentleman's face would have been a mere note of interrogation, but for a hint of chilly displeasure in its questioning. The young people answered with blushes. The word was the same for both, but the fact was curiously different. The colour that sprang to Barbara's cheek was light and swift as flame, while the man at her side reddened slowly, as if with the rising of a dark and sullen tide, till the lines across his face were angrily swollen. The bandage, loosely wound round his hand, showed the wet stains, and the new-comer's bright gaze, travelling downwards, rested on it for a moment, and then passed on to the muddy boots and trousers. "Uncle," said Barbara, "I dropped my gold cross, and this gentleman was so kind as to get it back for me." "It was nothing--I was very glad to be of any service, but it isn't worth mentioning," the stranger protested, again with a rough edge of effort in his tone. "On the contrary," said the old gentleman, "I fear my niece has given you a great deal of trouble. I am sure we are both of us exceedingly obliged to you for your kindness." He emphasised his thanks with a neat little bow. To the young man's angry fancy it seemed that his glance swept the landscape, as if he sought some perilous precipice, which might account for the display of mud and wounds. "Yes," said Barbara, quickly, "the bank is so slippery, and there are such horrid brambles--look, uncle! I came to meet you, and I was gathering some leaves, and my chain caught and snapped." "Ah! that bank! Yes, a very disagreeable place," he assented, looking up at the stranger. "I am really very sorry that you should have received such----" he hesitated for a word, and then finished, "such injuries." "The bank is nothing. I was clumsy," was the reply.