ent exertions I found myself
under the influence of some very pleasurable emotions, occasioned by
the incident of the slender girl. Her childlike frankness was charming
to me. There was not another girl in a thousand who would have told me
that story of the peas. I felt glad that she had known who I was when
she was talking to me, and that her simple confidences had been given
to me personally, and not to an entire stranger who had happened
along. I wondered if she resembled her father or her mother, and I had
no doubt that to possess such a daughter they must both be excellent
people.

CHAPTER III

THE DUKE'S DRESSING-GOWN

Thinking thus, I almost forgot the storm, but coming to a slight
descent where the road was very smooth I became conscious that my
wheel was inclined to slip, and if I were not careful I might come to
grief. But no sooner had I reached the bottom of the declivity than I
beheld on my right a lighted doorway. Without the slightest hesitation
I turned through the wide gateway, the posts of which I could scarcely
see, and stopped in front of a small house by the side of a driveway.
Waiting for no permission, I carried my bicycle into a little covered
porch. I then approached the door, for I was now seeking not only
shelter but an opportunity to dry myself. I do not believe a sponge
could have been more thoroughly soaked than I was.

At the very entrance I was met by a little man in short jacket and
top-boots.

"I heard your step," said he. "Been caught in the rain, eh? Well, this
is a storm! And now what're we going to do? You must come in. But
you're in a pretty mess, I must say! Hi, Maria!"

At these words a large, fresh-looking woman came into the little hall.

"Maria," said the man, "here's a gentleman that's pretty nigh drowned,
and he's dripping puddles big enough to swim in."

The woman smiled. "Really, sir," said she, "you've had a hard time.
Wheeling, I suppose. It's an awful time to be out. It's so dark that I
lighted a lamp to make things look a little cheery. But you must come
in until the rain is over, and try and dry yourself."

"But how about the hall, Maria?" said the man. "There'll be a dreadful
slop!"

"Oh, I'll make that all right," she said. She disappeared, and quickly
returned with a couple of rugs, which she laid, wrong side up, on the
polished floor of the hallway. "Now you can step on those, sir, and
come into the kitchen. There's a fire there."

I thanked