Soon she saw her ghostly adviser speeding towards her in another guise. A stout rocking-chair was on his shoulder, and skates were dangling from his hand, and she ran to meet him with anticipating delight. A little later, Dan, who had been oblivious of proceedings thus far, was startled by seeing Lottie rush by him, comfortably ensconced in a rocking-chair and propelled by Hemstead's powerful strokes. This was a great change for the better, in his estimation, and he hailed it vociferously. Hemstead good-naturedly put the boy in his sister's lap, and then sent them whirling about the pond with a rapidity that almost took away their breaths. But he carefully shielded them from accidents.
"It's strange how you can be so strong, and yet so gentle," said
Lottie, gratefully looking up at him over her shoulder.
"I haven't the faintest wish to harm you," he replied, smiling.
"That I should ever have wished to harm him!" she thought, with a twinge of remorse.
After a half-hour of grand sport, the setting sun reminded them that it was time to return.
"How do you feel now?" he asked.
"My face must be your answer," she said, turning to him features glowing with exercise and happiness.
"A beautiful answer," he said impulsively. "In color and brightness it is the reflection of the sunset there."
"I admit," she answered shyly, "that its brightness has a western cause. But speaking of color reminds me of something;" and her eyes twinkled most mirthfully as she caught a glimpse of something around his neck. "What have you done with my 'colors,' that I gave you last night? I know you wore them figuratively in your face this morning, when Miss Martell so enchanted you; but where are they, literally? Now a knight is supposed to be very careful of a lady's colors if he accepts them."
"I have been; and Miss Martell has never seen your colors."