d Romneys, did you say? Oh! by all
means, if you want them;" but it may be doubted whether he ever heard
her thanks as he buried himself in his paper again.

The dogs were delighted at the prospect of a walk, when Fay consulted
them; so a merry party started down the avenue--Fay in her furs and
little sealskin hat, which made her look more a child than ever, and
Erle in that wonderful coat of his, lined with sable, and the two big
dogs racing on before them, and plowing with their noses in the deep
cold snow.

They had walked about two miles, and were thoroughly enjoying
themselves, when all at once Fay slipped.

How it happened neither of them had any idea. Fay was sure-footed, she
skimmed over the frozen snow as lightly as a bird. Erle never had to
offer her any assistance--he would as soon have thought of helping a
robin. It must have been orange-peel, as Fay suggested--only neither
of them saw any--but all the same, just as Erle was walking calmly
along, striking carelessly at the branches with his dandy cane, and
Fay chattering and laughing in her usual fashion, all at once she
slipped, and her foot seemed to double up under her, and she sunk down
comfortably on the snow, only with rather a pale face.

It was very awkward and embarrassing, a most unfortunate circumstance,
as they were two miles from Redmond Hall, and there was Fay protesting
that she did not think she could stand, much less walk; and when Erle
knelt down to examine the dainty little foot, and touched it lightly,
Fay turned still paler, and uttered a little cry, but the next moment
she laughed.

"I am afraid I have sprained my ankle. It was very silly and awkward
of me, and I can not think how it happened. No, it is not so very
painful, unless I try to move. What are we to do, Erle?"

"That is just what I don't know," he returned, disconsolately, looking
down the lane, while the two dogs gazed wistfully into his face, as
though they were quite aware of the dilemma, and felt very sorry for
their little mistress. "I suppose you could not ride on Pierre's back,
you are hardly small enough for that; and with all my good will I am
afraid I should not succeed in carrying you two miles--these furs are
heavy, Fay--and yet how am I to leave you sitting in the snow while I
go in search of help. I suppose," with another look, that only landed
him in plowed fields, "there is not a house near, and yet this is one
of the Sandycliffe lanes."

"I don't thi