She was relieved to think he had misunderstood her agitation. “Yes, an adventure,” she said, “that's it. And I haven't had an adventure for years, so naturally--But, please, I think you had better go. If my--my friend saw me with you like this she would be angry--oh, very angry.” “But why? She saw you fall. She saw me save you.” “You don't understand. She is not exactly my friend; she is my--my employer. I'm a mother's-help.” The mirth that never lay deep beneath those blue eyes of hers was sparkling up now; the soft, dark wings were fluttering no longer. She continued: “A mother's-help. Doesn't that sound wretched? I'm terribly slow at learning the mother's-help rules, but I'm positive of this rule--mothers' helps may not shoot out of cabs and leave the mother; it's such little help--you must see that?” “But you will be less help still if you stay here for ever with your hurt ankle--you must see that? I must stay with you or see you to your home.” When she answered, it was upon another change of mood. The soft, dark wings were fluttering again; and it was the banter of George's tone that had recalled them. For this was an adventure--and she had not known adventure for years; for these were flippant exchanges arising out of gay young hearts, and they recalled memories of days when such harmless bantering was of her normal life; for there had been sympathy in George's stammering inquiries, and it recalled the time when she lived amidst sympathy and amidst love. The soft, dark wings fluttered again: “I am very grateful to you for helping me,” she told him. “You must not think me ungrateful; only, I think you had better go. In my position I am not free to--to do as I like, talk where I will. You understand?” Her voice trembled a little, and she repeated: “You understand?” George said, “I understand.” II. And that was all that passed upon this meeting. A cab swung round the opposite corner; pulled up with a rattle; turned towards them; was alongside. Within, a brow of thunder sat. The cabman called, “I knowed you was all right, miss,” raised the trap, and cheerfully repeated the information to his fare: “I knowed she was all right, mum.” The mum addressed gave no congratulation to his prescience. He shut the lid; winked at George; behind his hand communicated, “Not 'arf angry, she ain't.” The girl ran forward; agitation bound up her hurt ankle. “Oh!” she cried, “I am so glad you are safe!” The thunder-figure addressed said: “Please get in. I have had a severe shock.” “This gentleman--” The girl half turned to George. “Please get in--instantly.” Scarlet the girl went. “Thank you very much,” she said to George; climbed in beside the cloud of wrath. Her companion slammed the door; dabbed at George a bow that was like a sharp poke with a stick; called, “Drive on.” George stepped into the road, held half a crown to the driver: “The address?”