Hall Caine (annoyed). Tut!]
"Jove," he said cheerily, as he picked himself and her and his bicycle up, "that was a nasty spill. As my Aunt Louisa used to say to the curate when he upset the milk-jug into her lap, 'No milk, thank you.'" His brown eyes danced with amusement as he related this reminiscence of his boyhood. To the Little Grey Woman he seemed to exhale youth from every pore.
"What did your Aunt Louisa say when her ankle was sprained?" she asked with a rueful smile.
In an instant the merry banter faded from the Virile Benedict's brown eyes, and was replaced by the commanding look of one who has taken a brilliant degree in all his medical examinations.
"Allow me," he said brusquely; "I am a doctor." He bent down and listened to her ankle.
It did not take Dr. Dick Cameron's quick ear long to find out all there was to know. His manner became very gentle and his voice very low; and, though he continued to exhale youth, he did it less ostentatiously than before.
"I must carry you home," he said, picking her up in his strong young arms; "you cannot go to church to-day."
"But the curate is preaching!"
Dr. Dick murmured something profane under his breath about curates. He had, alas! these moments of irreverence; as, for instance, on one occasion when he had spoken of Mr. Louis N. Parker's noble picture-play, "Joseph and his Brethren," quite shortly as "Jos. Bros."
"I will carry you home," he said gently. "Tell me where you live, Little Grey Woman."