dressing-gown. "There!" said he. "They'll keep you warm until your own
clothes dry."

With a change of linen from my bag, which had fortunately kept its
contents dry, the yellow trousers, and a wonderful dressing-gown, made
of some blue stuff embroidered with gold and lined throughout with
crimson satin, I made a truly gorgeous appearance. But it struck me
that it would be rather startling to a beholder were I to appear
barefooted in such raiment, for my shoes and stockings were as wet as
the rest of my clothes. I had not finished dressing before the little
man knocked again, this time with some gray socks and a pair of
embroidered slippers.

"These'll fit you, I think," said he, "for I'll lay you ten shillings
that I'm as big in the feet as you are."

I would have been glad to gaze at myself in a full-length mirror, but
there was no opportunity for the indulgence of such vanity; and before
leaving the room I sat down for a moment to give a few thoughts to
the situation. My mind first reverted to the soaked condition of my
garments and the difficulty of getting them dry enough for me to put
them on and continue my journey. Then I found that I had dropped the
subject and was thinking of the slender girl, wondering if she had
really hurt herself very much, congratulating myself that I had been
fortunate enough to be on hand to help her in her need, and
considering what a plight she would have been in if she had been
caught in that terrible rain and utterly unable to get herself to
shelter.

Suddenly I stopped short in my thinking, and going to my bag I took