ng and endeavoring with all her
strength to conceal it.

"But I will wait. I think you have hurt yourself. Lean upon my arm,"
he said, quietly.

"Please let me help you," he continued, going nearer to her.

But Betty refused his assistance. She would not even allow him to
take the goldenrod from her arms. After a few hesitating steps she
paused and lifted her foot from the ground.

"Here, you must not try to walk a step farther," he said,
resolutely, noting how white she had suddenly become. "You have
sprained your ankle and are needlessly torturing yourself. Please
let me carry you?"

"Oh, no, no, no!" cried Betty, in evident distress. "I will manage.
It is not so--very--far."

She resumed the slow and painful walking, but she had taken only a
few steps when she stopped again and this time a low moan issued
from her lips. She swayed slightly backward and if Alfred had not
dropped his rifle and caught her she would have fallen.

"Will you--please--for some one?" she whispered faintly, at the same
time pushing him away.

"How absurd!" burst out Alfred, indignantly. "Am I then, so
distasteful to you that you would rather wait here and suffer a half
hour longer while I go for assistance? It is only common courtesy on
my part. I do not want to carry you. I think you would be quite
heavy."

He said this in a hard, bitter tone, deeply hurt that she would not
accept even a little kindness from him. He looked away from her and
waited. Presently a soft, half-smothered sob came from Betty and it
expressed such utter wretchedness that his heart melted. After all
she was only a child. He turned to see the tears running down her
cheeks, and with a suppressed imprecation upon the wilfulness of
young women in general, and this one in particular, he stepped
forward and before she could offer any resistance, he had taken her
up in his arms, goldenrod and all, and had started off at a rapid
walk toward the fort.

Betty cried out in angry surprise, struggled violently for a moment,
and then, as suddenly, lay quietly in his arms. His anger changed to
self-reproach as he realized what a light burden she made. He looked
down at the dark head lying on his shoulder. Her face was hidden by
the dusky rippling hair, which tumbled over his breast, brushed
against his cheek, and blew across his lips. The touch of those
fragrant tresses was a soft caress. Almost unconsciously he pressed
her closer to his heart. And as a sweet mad long