"Well, Sir Lionel, I'll let you off; the more especially as I have
been down there myself already, and got dreadfully draggled in doing
so. Oh! I declare, there is Miss Waddington in the water."

Miss Waddington was in the water. Not in such a manner, gentlest
of readers, as to occasion the slightest shock to your susceptible
nerves; but in such a degree as to be very disagreeable to her boots,
and the cause of infinite damage to her stockings. George Bertram had
handed her down, and when in the act of turning round to give similar
assistance to some other adventurous lady, had left her alone on the
slippery stones. Of course any young lady would take advantage of
such an unguarded moment to get into some catastrophe.

Alas! and again alas! Unfortunately, Mr. M'Gabbery had been the first
to descend to the pool. He had calculated, cunningly enough, that in
being there, seeing that the space was not very large, the duty must
fall to his lot of receiving into his arms any such ladies as chose
to come down--Miss Waddington, who was known to be very adventurous,
among the number. He was no sooner there, however, than George
Bertram jumped in almost upon him, and hitherto he had not had an
opportunity of touching Miss Waddington's glove. But now it seemed
that fortune was to reward him.

"Good heavens!" cried Mr. M'Gabbery, as he dashed boldly into the
flood, thereby splashing the water well up into Caroline's face.
There was not much occasion for this display, for the gentleman could
have assisted the lady quite as effectually without even wetting his
toes; but common misfortunes do create common sympathies--or at least
they should do. Would it not be natural that Miss Waddington and
Mr. M'Gabbery, when both wet through up to their knees, should hang
together in their sufferings, make common cause of it, talk each of
what the other felt and understood so well? Nay, might it not be
probable that, in obedience to the behests of some wise senior, they
might be sent back to the city together;--understand, O reader, that
the wall of Jerusalem had never yet been distant from them half a
mile--back, we say, together to get dry stockings? To achieve such an
object, Mr. M'Gabbery would have plunged bodily beneath the wave--had
the wave been deep enough to receive his body. As it was, it only
just came over the tops of his boots, filling them comfortably with
water.

"Oh, Mr. M'Gabbery!" exclaimed the ungrateful lady. "Now you ha