She stopped in front of him and her pale, fluttering eyelids lifted from her blue-grey eyes.
“Why,� she said, “you are the boy that jumped in the river!�
“I’m no longer a boy,� answered Hood, “but I’m ready to jump in the river again.�
“Well, don’t jump on the railway-line,� she said, as he turned with a swiftness suggestive of something of the kind.
“To tell you the truth,� he said, “I was thinking of jumping into your railway-train. Do you mind if I jump into your railway-train?�
“Well, I’m going to Birkstead,� she said rather doubtfully.
Mr. Owen Hood did not in the least care where she was going, as he had resolved to go there; but as a matter of fact, he remembered a wayside station on that line that lay very near to what he had in view; so he tumbled into the carriage if possible with more alacrity; and landscapes shot by them as they sat looking in a dazed and almost foolish fashion at each other. At last the girl smiled with a sense of the absurdity of the thing.
“I heard about you from a friend of yours,� she said; “he came to call on us soon after it happened; at least that was when he first came. You know Dr. Hunter, don’t you?�
“Yes,� replied Owen, a shadow coming over his shining hour. “Do you—do you know him well?�
“I know him pretty well now,� said Miss Elizabeth Seymour.