Deborah was very kind. She brought me up a delicious little supper, and decided that there was no need for me to take the doctor's nauseous mixture. She took it herself instead, but merely as a sop to her conscience and my own; "for, after all, you know, there's very little difference in physic--it's all nasty; and I daresay this mixture will do my lumbago no harm." The effects of the accident had almost entirely passed away by next morning, and I was dressed and downstairs by seven o'clock. I found the major hard at work digging up the garden for his winter crops. "Ah, Poppetina, down so early!" he cried. "And how do we feel this morning, eh? None the worse for our ducking, I hope." I assured him that I was quite well, and that I had never felt better in my life. "That will be good news for her ladyship," he replied, "and will prove to her that Miss Holme has not fallen among Philistines. In any case, she cannot be more pleased than I am to find that you have sustained no harm from your accident. There is something, Poverina, in that face of yours that brings back the past to me strangely. But here comes Master Geordie." I turned and saw a young man sauntering slowly down the pathway. He was very fair, and, to me, seemed very handsome. He had blue eyes, and his hair was a mass of short, crisp flaxen curls. From the way in which the major regarded him as he came lounging up, I could see that the old soldier was very proud of his young Adonis of a nephew. The latter lifted his hat as he opened the wicket, and bade his uncle good morning. Me he did not for the moment see. "Miss Holme is not up yet, I suppose?" he said. "I hope she is none the worse for her tumble over the weir." "Our little water-nymph is here to answer for herself," said the major. "The roses in her cheeks seem all the brighter for their wetting." George Strickland turned smilingly towards me, and held out his hand. "I am very glad, Miss Holme, to find that you have suffered so little from your accident," he said. "When I fished you out of the river last night you looked so death-like that I was afraid we should not be able to bring you round without difficulty." Tears stood in my eyes as I took his hand. "Oh, sir, how brave, how noble it was of you to act as you did! You saved my life at the risk of your own, and how can I ever thank you enough?" A bright colour came into his cheek as I spoke. "My dear Miss Holme, you must not speak in that way," he said. "What I did was a very ordinary thing. Any one else in my place would have done precisely the same. I must not claim more merit than is due for an action so simple." "To you it may seem a simple thing to do, but I cannot forget that it was my life that you saved."