I did not remember then, as I did later, that I was young.
I descended at the edge of the narrow pavement, and was about to hand her out at the step, but as I glanced down I saw that the rain had left a puddle of mud between the carriage and the walk.
"Pardon, Madam," I said; "allow me to make a light for you--the footing is bad." I lighted another lucifer, just as she hesitated at the step.

She made as though to put out her right foot, and withdrew it.

Again she shifted, and extended her left foot.

I faintly saw proof that nature had carried out her scheme of symmetry, and had not allowed wrist and arm to forswear themselves! I saw also that this foot was clad in the daintiest of white slippers, suitable enough as part of her ball costume, as I doubted not was this she wore.

She took my hand without hesitation, and rested her weight upon the step--an adorable ankle now more frankly revealed.