"For bringing you here?" he suggested, beginning to wring out his
neckerchief again.

"Yes; believe me I am more than grateful for--for--"

"For what, madam?" he inquired again, looking at her now.

"For--your--kindness, sir."

"Pray, how have I been kind?--you refused my neckerchief."

Surely he was rather an unpleasant person after all, she thought,
with his persistently direct eyes, and his absurdly blunt mode of
questioning--and she detested answering questions.

"Sir," said she, with her dimpled chin a little higher than usual,
"it is a great pity you troubled yourself about me, or spoilt your
neckerchief with water."

"I thought you were hurt, you see--"

"Oh, sir, I grieve to disappoint you," said she, and rose, and
indeed she gained her feet with admirable grace and dignity
notwithstanding her recent fall, and the hampering folds of her habit;
and now Barnabas saw that she was taller than he had thought.

"Disappoint me!" repeated Barnabas, rising also; "the words are
unjust."