“A little,” I answered. “I shall be all right in a minute.” I did not add, “Put me down, please;” for I did not want to be put down directly. I could not have stood if he had put me down. I grew faint.

Life came back, and I felt myself growing heavy in his arms.

“I think I can stand now,” I said. “Please put me down.”

He obeyed immediately.

“I've nearly broken your arms,” I said, ashamed of having become a burden to him the moment we met.

“I could run with you to the top of the hill!” he answered.

“I don't think you could,” I returned. Perhaps I leaned a little toward him; I do not know. He put his arm round me.

“You are not able to stand,” he said. “Shall we sit a moment?”

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CHAPTER XIV. MOTHER AND UNCLE.