she would not
enter her house until she had seen him safely across the road, and
within the lion-guarded portals.

It was just kindly womanly instinct, but all her life long Olivia was
glad that she had yielded to that impulse. She was still standing upon
the step, and the old man was nearly across the road, when she saw him
slip. A piece of orange-peel on the curb had escaped him in the
darkness, and he had put his foot on the slippery substance. Olivia
gave a quick exclamation as she saw him try to recover his balance, and
then fall forward rather heavily. No one was passing just then, and
happily the road was clear of vehicles. Olivia ran across and picked
up his stick, then she took him by the arm and helped him to rise.

"I trust you have not hurt yourself," she said, anxiously. "Please do
not be afraid of leaning on me, I am very strong. Ah," as the old man
uttered a groan, "you have injured yourself in some way. The curb is
rather steep just here."

"It is my ankle, but I must get home somehow. You are very good,
madam; if you will allow me to take your arm, I think I can manage
those few yards. I live there," pointing to the grim doorway.

"Yes, I know: Mr. Gaythorne, of Galvaston House; we are neighbours of
yours, and I have seen you come out of the house frequently. Shall I
ring the bell for you, and perhaps"--hesitating a little, as though she
were taking a liberty--"you will allow me to go as far as the hall-door
with you."

But to her alarm the old man suddenly stood still. It was pitchy dark
under the overhanging trees, and only a faint gleam from a large bow
window showed her the length of the garden-path that they would have to
traverse.

"I can do no more," he said, faintly; "I believe I have broken my
ankle. Mrs. Crampton and the maids must find some way of getting me
in. Perhaps, madam, you will be so good as to explain the matter to
them. I see the door is open," and Olivia at once left him and went up
to the house.

"Your master has met with a slight accident," she said to the
astonished maid. "He has fallen and hurt his foot, and it is quite
impossible for him to walk up to the house. He mentioned Mrs.
Crampton; perhaps you will ask her what is to be done," and the girl, a
good-natured, buxom country lass, at once ran off.

Olivia stood patiently for a few minutes. The hall with its handsome
rugs and blazing fire looked delightfully inviting. A lean, old hound,
stretch