ter, and
stretching out her arms to me, was Dora, her cheeks wet, her lips pale,
her eyes imploringly fixed on me, or on the burden I carried, regardless
of the rushing flood that saturated her floating dress and tiny feet,
and threatened to bear her away from the frail support to which she
clung. Feeble, exhausted, despairing, as I was, there was a magnetic
power in that dear voice, in that beautiful pale face, that inspired me
with hope, and drew me back to life.

A few strokes impelled me nearer, the stream drifted me among the
sweeping branches, I was clasped in those beautiful arms, then seized
and dragged along by a stronger gripe, and presently lay half senseless
and wholly exhausted on the sandy beach.

I was content to lie there while I fancied I felt soft hands press mine,
warm tears baptize my face, and gentle touches extricate the gasping
Rover from my drowning gripe on his hair; but after he was removed, I
seemed to be more roughly handled by less tender fingers, and opened my
eyes to find the zealous Mr. Hayes kneeling by my side, and, under his
fair mistress's orders of course, doing his duty toward my
resuscitation, while at a safe distance stood Dora, her dripping
favorite sneezing and floundering in her arms, and her happy face
beaming rosier and fairer than ever, by contrast with her soiled and
bedraggled garments, as she pressed the precious rescued treasure to her
heart, and received her lover's congratulations on its restoration, with
only an occasional furtive glance at me, as I lay slowly coming back to
life under his active treatment.

So the tears, the pallor, the heroism, the daring rescue, were for the
sake of that worthless dog. I was saved incidentally with her
interesting favorite, as I might have drowned in his cause, and no
questions asked, and having accomplished my high mission, and preserved
the stupid brute, lay untended and uncared-for on the sand, dependent on
the kind offices of my successful rival! The blood rushed back to my
heart, the fiery strength to my nerves, as I slowly drank in the
bitterness of this cup.

'Your cousin's better, Miss Dora,' said the benignant Hayes. 'Aren't you
going to thank him?'

She moved nearer in instinctive obedience to him, bashful, tearful,
trembling, confused, but radiant and lovely as I had never seen her, and
lifting her timid eyes to his, as it seemed for further instructions,
with a gentle deprecating grace, while she carefully averted