position, "do not move. May I examine your foot?"

She shook her head, but he removed the shoe regardless of her head-shake.
"I believe it is sprained. I am sure the bone is not broken. But how in
the world will you get home? How far is it to Mount Mark? Is that where
you live?"

"Yes," considering, "yes, I live there, and it must be four miles,
anyhow. What shall I do?"

In answer, he pulled off his coat, and arranged it carefully by the side
of the road on the grass. Then jerking open the bag he had carried, he
took out a few towels, and three soft shirts. Hastily rolling them
together for a pillow, he added it to the bed pro tem. Then he turned
again to Prudence.

"I'll carry you over here, and fix you as comfortably as I can. Then
I'll go to the nearest house and get a wagon to take you home."

Prudence was not shy, and realizing that his plan was the wise one, she
made no objections when he came to help her across the road. "I think I
can walk if you lift me up."

But the first movement sent such a twinge of pain through the wounded
ankle that she clutched him frantically, and burst into tears. "It
hurts," she cried, "don't touch me."

Without speaking, he lifted her as gently as he could and carried her to
the place he had prepared for her. "Will you be warm enough?" he asked,
after he had stood looking awkwardly down upon the sobbing girl as long