A wisp of hair, glossy as coal, trembled against a cheek white
as the gown she wore.

At her side, blinking in the last rays of the warm sun, sat a
bulldog, toothless and old. Now and then a sear leaf, falling in
a zig-zag course, rustled past his ears, and he would shake his
head as if he, too, were dreaming and the leaves disturbed him.
All at once he sniffed, his ears stood forward, and a low growl
broke the enchantment. The girl, on discovering Maurice, closed
the book and rose. The dog, still growling, jumped down and
trotted to the gate. Maurice thought that it was time to speak.

"Mademoiselle," he said, "pardon this intrusion, but my boat has
met with an accident."

The girl came to the gate. "Why, Monsieur," she exclaimed, "you
are wet!"

"That is true," replied Maurice, his teeth beginning to knock
together. "I was forced to swim. If you will kindly open the
gate and guide me to the street, I shall be much obliged to you."

The gate swung outward, and in a moment Maurice was on dry land,
or the next thing to it, which was the boat-dock.

"Thank you," he said.

"O! And you might have been drowned," compassion lighting her
beautiful eyes. "Sit down on the bench, Monsieur, for you must
be weak. And it was that sunken pier? I shall speak to