in that same tender, respectful way.

Mae saw the sunlight strike his hair; she half heard his deep breath;
and, like a flood, there suddenly swept over her the knowledge that this
new friend, this sympathizing soul, was an unknown man, and that she
was a girl. What had she done? What could she do? Confusion and
embarrassment suddenly overtook her. She bent her eyes away from those
other eyes, that were growing bolder and more tender in their gaze.
"I--I--" she began, and just at this very inauspicious moment, while
she sat there, flushed, by the stranger's side, the clatter of
swiftly-approaching wheels sounded, and a carriage turned the corner,
containing Mrs. Jerrold, Edith, Albert, and Norman Mann. They all saw
her.

Mae laughed. It was such a dreadful situation that it was funny, and she
laughed again. "Those are my friends," she said, in a low voice. "We
can walk away," replied the officer, and turned his face in the opposite
direction. "It is too late; and, besides, why should we?" And Mae looked
full in his face, then turned to the carriage, which was close upon
them.

"How do you all do?" she cried, gleefully and bravely. "Isn't there room
for me in there? Mrs. Jerrold, I would like to introduce Signor--your
name?"--she said, quite clearly, in Italian, turning to the officer.

"Bero," he replied.

"Signor Bero. He was very kind, and saved me from--from a little beggar
boy."