gives me such pain. I cannot move."

"Oh, dear, I am so sorry!" returned Phillis, good-naturedly; and, in
the most natural manner, she knelt down on the beach, and took the
injured foot in her hands. "Yes, I can feel it is swelling dreadfully:
we must try and get your boot off before the attempt gets too
painful." And she commenced unfastening it with deft fingers.

"How am I to walk without my boot?" observed Mrs. Cheyne, a little
drily, as she looked down on the girl; but here Nan interposed in her
brisk sensible way:

"You must not walk; you must not think of such a thing. We will wet
our handkerchiefs in the salt water, and bind up your ankle as well as
we can; and then one of us will walk over to the White House for
assistance. Your servants could easily obtain a wheeled chair."

"You knew I lived at the White House, then?" returned Mrs. Cheyne,
arching her eyebrows in some surprise; but she offered no opposition
to Nan's plan. The removal of the boot had brought on a sensation of
faintness, and she sat perfectly still and quiet while the girls
swathed the foot in wet bandages.

"It is a little easier now," she observed, gratefully. "How neatly you
have done it! you must be used to such work. I am really very much
obliged to you both for your kindly help; and now I am afraid I must
trouble you further if I am ever to reach home."

"I will go at once," returned Nan, cheerfully; "but I will leave my
sister for fear you should feel faint again: besides, it is so
lonely."

"Oh, I am used to loneliness!" was the reply, as a bitter expression
crossed her face.

Phillis, who was still holding the sprained foot in her lap, looked up
in her eager way.

"I think one gets used to everything; that is a merciful dispensation;
but all the same I hope you will not send me away. I dearly like to be
useful; and at present my object is to prevent your foot coming into
contact with these stones. Are you really in less pain now?--you look
dreadfully pale."

"Oh, that is nothing!" she returned, with a smile so sudden and sweet
that it quite startled Phillis, for it lit up her face like sunshine;
but almost before she caught it, it was gone. "How good you are to me!
and yet I am a perfect stranger!" and then she added, as though with
an afterthought, "But I saw you in church this morning."

Phillis nodded: the question certainly required no answer.

"If I knew you better, I should ask why your eyes questioned me so
clos