"One of the best," said Keith, warmly.

"Well, we must get you into the vehicle and take you home immediately,"
said her mother. "Can you help put my daughter into the carriage?" Mrs.
Yorke looked at the driver, a stolid colored man, who was surly over
having had to drive his horses so hard.

Before the man could answer, Gordon stepped forward, and, stooping,
lifted the girl, and quietly put her up into the vehicle. She simply
smiled and said, "Thank you," quite as if she were accustomed to being
lifted into carriages by strange young men whom she had just met on
the roadside.

Mrs. Yorke's eyes opened wide.

"How strong you must be!" she exclaimed, with a woman's admiration for
physical strength.

Keith bowed, and, with a flush mounting to his cheeks, backed a little
away.

"Oh, he has often lifted sacks of salt," said the girl, half turning her
eyes on Keith with a gleam of satisfaction in them.

Mrs. Yorke looked at her in astonishment.

"Why, Alice!" she exclaimed reprovingly under her breath.

"He told me so himself," asserted the girl, defiantly.