But when she started back through the woods, whoever it was in hiding evidently attempted to follow her. The faster she walked, the faster the footsteps came on behind. However, Frieda did not turn her head to discover her pursuer. She had been nervous and worried all day, or she might not have become so alarmed. Instead of looking back she continued hurrying on faster and faster until, in a few moments, she was in a panic. Then she started to run and to her horror realized that a man was also running with long, easy strides behind her. Frieda was totally unaccustomed to looking after herself in any emergency, and had never been compelled to do so--even in small adversities. Now she had a sudden impulse to call out for someone, but had only sufficient breath to increase her speed. If she could get a little nearer the house, one of the servants could be sure to come to her assistance. But Frieda had run only a few yards when, as a perfectly natural result of her panic, she tripped over some roots hidden in the underbrush and fell forward with her face amid the leaves and twigs and with one leg crumpled under her. She must have struck her chin for she felt a dull pain and a queer numbness in her side. However, when she tried to disentangle herself and jump up quickly the pain became more acute. Nevertheless, for one instant Frieda struggled and then lay still, for her pursuer had already reached her and was bending over her, for what purpose Frieda did not know. Then she heard a slow, inexpressibly familiar voice say: "I am afraid I have frightened you, my dear. I do trust you have not injured yourself." Then a pair of strong, gentle hands attempted to lift her. Naturally, Frieda's first sensation was one of amazement; the second, relief; and the third, anger. She managed, however, with assistance to sit in an upright position. Then she began brushing off the twigs and dirt which she felt had been ground into her face. Finally she recovered sufficient breath and self control to be able to speak. "Henry Russell!" she exclaimed, trying to reveal both dignity and disdain, in spite of her ridiculous position, "will you please tell me why you are hiding in Frank's woods like a thief, and why, when I refused to see you, you terrified the life out of me by chasing me until I nearly killed myself. I think, at least, I have broken my leg," she ended petulantly. Professor Henry Tilford Russell flushed all over his fair, scholarly face. Taking off his soft grey hat, he ran his hand over the top of his head, where the hair was already beginning to grow thin.