tched at
him with both hands.

"Don't go! Don't leave me! You said you wouldn't!"

"I am not going to, Chirpy," he said. "Don't be afraid!"

But she was afraid, and continued to cling to him very tightly, though
she would not raise her face.

"Come!" he said gently, at length. "You're better. Wouldn't you like to
bathe your feet?"

"You will stay with me?" she whispered.

"I am going to help you down to the stream," he said.

"Don't--don't carry me!" she faltered.

"Of course not! You can walk on this moss if I hold you up."

But she was very reluctant to move.

"I--I don't want you to look at me," she said, at last, with a great
sob. "I feel such a fright."

"Don't be a goose, Chirpy!" he said.

That braced her a little. She dried her tears. She even suffered him to
raise her to her feet, but she kept her head bent, avoiding his eyes.

"Look where you are going," said Rivington practically. "Here is my arm.
You mustn't mind me, you know. Lean hard!"

She accepted his assistance in silence. She was crying still, though she
strove to conceal the fact. But as she sank down once more on the brink
of the stream, the sobs broke out afresh, and would not be suppressed.

"I was so happy!" she whispered. "I didn't want him here--to spoil my
paradise."

Rivington said nothing. She did not even know if he heard; and if he
were aware of her tears he gave no sign. He was gently bathing her torn
feet with his hands.

XII

THE KNIGHT ERRANT PLAYS THE GAME

She began to command herself at last, and to be inexpressibly ashamed of
her weakness. She sat in silence, accepting his ministrations, till
Rivington proceeded to tear his handkerchief into strips for bandaging
purposes; then she put out a protesting hand.

"You--you shouldn't!" she said rather tremulously.

He looked at her with his kindly smile.

"It's all right, Chirpy. I've got another."

She tried to laugh. It was a valiant effort.

"I know I'm a horrid nuisance to you. It's nice of you to pretend you
don't mind."

"I never pretend," said Rivington, with a touch of grimness. "Do you
think you will be able to get your stocking over that?"

"I think so."

"Try!" he said.

She tried and succeeded.

"That's better," said Rivington. "Now for the shoes. I can put them on."

"I don't like you to," she murmured.

"Knights errant always do that," he assured her. "It's part of the game.
Come! That's splendid! How does it feel?"

"I th