It flashed over him that he had made a mistake which presently she would explain.
"Help me down," she said.
"But--are you well enough ?" he protested.

"Wait--a little longer." "I'm weak--dizzy.

But I want to get down." He lifted her--what a light burden now!--and stood her upright beside him, and supported her as she essayed to walk with halting steps.

She was like a stripling of a boy; the bright, small head scarcely reached his shoulder.

But now, as she clung to his arm, the rider's costume she wore did not contradict, as it had done at first, his feeling of her femininity.