“It was all my fault,” said the patient, as Darley knelt down and removed the remaining skate. “I would put on these old-fashioned things just because the blades are splendid.” Darley secured the refractory skate and removed his own. Then he asked how the ankle felt. Miss Charteris attempted to stand upon both feet, but sat down upon the bank instantly. “It _does_ hurt,” she said, as if unwilling to admit the painful fact. She looked at Darley almost appealingly, then about her. The nearest house was a quarter of a mile away. Finally she looked back at Darley, with an expression that seemed to say, What are we going to do now, I wonder? Darley made up his mind quickly. He always did when a woman was in the question. “You can't walk,” he said; “I shall have to carry you.” Miss Charteris' pale cheeks assumed a rapid flush. “I can walk,” she said, hastily. “Very well,” said Darley, gently. “Take my arm.” A few painful steps proved to Miss Charteris that she _could_ walk, at the expense of excruciating agony. So, being a sensible little soul, she stopped. “You see, it is impossible,” said her knight. “You will have to let me carry you, Miss Charteris. I beg your pardon for not introducing myself. I am Mr. Percy Darley, a guest at Mr. John Leonard's.” “I knew you were Mr. Darley, but I don't see how you knew that I was Miss Charteris,” said that young lady, looking surprised, and quite forgetting her ankle. “I have the pleasure of knowing your sister, and I recognized the likeness,” answered Darley, truthfully. “Now, will you allow me? Or I am afraid I shall have to take the law into my own hands.” “I am not the law,” retorted Miss Charteris, attempting to proceed. “The very reason that I should become the law,” answered Darley, laughing. “I think I can _hop_,” said the girl, desperately. She did so for a few yards, and then came to a last halt. Hopping through deep snow proved rather heavy exercise. “I am afraid you will have to carry me,” she said in a tone of surrender. Darley picked her up. She was no weight, this little gray thing, and Darley was an athletic young man. Despite the snow, it did not take him long to reach the farm-house. The farmer's wife was a kind soul, and knew Miss Charteris. She also knew a sprain, she said, when she saw one; and Miss Charteris' ankle was sprained. So, while the injured member was being attended to by the deft hand of the farmer's wife, Darley posted off to the town for Miss Charteris' aunt's sleigh, the farmer being absent with his own. Darley secured the sleigh, drove back to the farm-house, and his charge, her ankle warmly and carefully wrapped up, was placed in the cutter and driven home. The family doctor had already arrived, and Darley took his leave. “May I call and see how you are get-ing on?” he ventured as he said good-by. “I shall be happy if you will,” said Miss Charteris. But the gray eyes seemed to say to Darley, Could you think of not doing so?