foot.

"It hurts!" she murmured piteously.

"Have patience, mademoiselle! It will be better in a moment," came the
quick reply. "I shall not hurt you more than is necessary. It is to
arrest the bleeding, this. Mademoiselle will endure the pain like a brave
child, yes?"

Chris swallowed a little shudder. The dizziness was passing. She was
beginning to see more clearly, and her gaze travelled with dawning
criticism over the neat white figure that ministered so confidently to
her need.

"I knew he'd be French," she whispered half aloud.

"But I speak English, mademoiselle," he returned, without raising his
black head,

"Yes," she said, with a sigh of relief. "I'm very glad of that. Must you
pull it any tighter? I--I can bear it, of course, but I'd much rather you
didn't if--if you don't mind."

She spoke gaspingly. Her eyes were full of tears, though she kept them
resolutely from falling.

"Poor little one!" he said. "But you are very brave. Once more--so--and
we will not do it again. The pain is not so bad now, no?"

He looked up at her with a smile so kindly that Chris nearly broke down