"Why?"

"Bull never makes friends."

"But I do," said Maurice; "perhaps he understands that, and
comes half-way. But it is rather strange to see a bulldog in
this part of the country."

"He was given to me, years ago, by an Englishman."

"That accounts for it." He was experiencing a deal of cold, but
he dared not mention it. "And may I ask your name?"

"Ah, Monsieur," shyly, "to tell you my name would be to frighten
you away."

"I am sure nothing could do that," he declared earnestly. Had he
been thinking of aught but her eyes he might have caught the
significance of her words. But, then, the cold was numbing.

She surveyed him with critical eyes. She saw a clean-shaven face,
brown, handsome and eager, merry blue eyes, a chin firm and
aggressive, a mischievous mouth, a forehead which showed the man
of thought, a slim athletic form which showed the man of action--
all of which combined to produce that indescribable air which
attaches itself to the gentleman.

"It is Alexia," she said, after some hesitation, watching him
closely to observe the effect.