"Pardon me," he murmured. "I am so very awkward. Have I hurt you?"

"Not in the least," cried she. "But I am afraid you are hurt. See! There
is blood on your forehead." She instantly extended her handkerchief, and
he accepted it in a bewildered sort of a way, placing it to his
forehead, where a tiny stream of blood was showing itself.

"A piece of court plaster will stop the flow," said Hugh critically, and
at once produced the article from his capacious pocket-book. Grace
immediately appropriated it and asked for his knife.

"You are very good," said the stranger, again pressing the handkerchief
to his head. The act revealed to him the fact that he was using her
handkerchief for the purpose, soiling it, perhaps. His face flushed
deeply and an embarrassed gleam came to his eyes. "Why, I am using your
handkerchief. I assure you I did not know what I was doing when I took
it from you. Have I ruined it?"

Miss Vernon laughed at his concern and her face brightened
considerably. As she looked into his clear blue eyes and his square,
firm face she observed for the first time that he was quite a
handsome fellow.

"It won't soil it at all," she said.

"But it was thoughtless, even rude of me, to take yours when I had my
own. I am so sorry."

"Do you think this will be large enough, Hugh?" she asked, holding up a