She had not long enjoyed the amenities of this position, when her solitude was invaded by the sound of a slow and dragging step accompanied by faint gasps, and turning with a slight frown on her velvet brow, she perceived the figure of an elderly invalid emerging slowly from under the olive-boughs shading the steps. Encumbered with shawls, cushions, and writing and working materials, this poor lady made slow and panting progress, and was obliged to rest a minute on the wooden seat surrounding the olive-trunk; and upon perceiving a youthful form stretched on chairs along the foreground, of the aerial prospect before her, she was not without hope that the graceful figure in full bloom of health would get up and help her. In this she was disappointed, since the face of the fair damsel in question, after the first frowning glance, continued to be bent in studious absorption upon her book, as if undisturbed by or unaware of her presence. Observing this, the new-comer, in the habit of occupying one of the chairs now supporting the fairy figure, for whole mornings together, her infirmities not permitting her to walk or be carried in the ambulant arm-chairs known to common minds as donkeys, and supposing her approach to have been both unseen and unheard, rose, and gathering up her burdens, dragged herself across the platform to Dorris, with some friendly words. At this the fair student raised her eyes languidly to the frail and bent figure standing at her side, and, having favoured her with a cool and contemptuous stare, observed in a patronizing tone that the morning was warm, and went back to her work without another word, to the poor lady's speechless amazement. A passing thought of asking her young friend if she could spare one of the easy-chairs and take a plain one for her feet was abandoned in sudden indignation at this heartless piece of impudence, and, being unable to accommodate herself to the hard iron bars and high seats of the straight chairs without actual pain, and seeing no one near to fetch her a less penitential seat, the invalid was obliged to beat a retreat with as little loss of dignity as possible, resting once more under the olive on her way, and then very slowly climbing down the marble steps. There she met M. Isidore, fury firing his eyes and bristling his moustache, but gentleness in his voice when he spoke to her, relieving her of her encumbrances and giving her an arm to a less desirable shelter in the sun, where he surrounded her with every available comfort. "I go now," he said with a very sweet smile, before vanishing, "to settle the other lady. She will have some fun, that one."