"You must not say that," she answered. "It was not your fault at all. If my silly dog had not run into the road it would not have happened. Do you think his leg is broken?"
Jim knelt on the edge of the path beside the dog and carefully examined his injuries. His bush life had given him a considerable insight into the science of surgery, and it stood him in good stead now.
"No," he said, when his examination was at an end, "his leg is not broken, though I'm afraid it is rather badly injured."
In spite of the young lady's protests, he took his handkerchief from his pocket and bound up the injured limb. The next thing to be decided was how to get the animal home. It could not walk, and it was manifestly impossible that the young lady should carry him.
"Won't you let me put him in the cart and drive you both home?" Jim asked. "I should be glad to do so, if I may."
As he said this he looked more closely at the girl before him, and realised that she was decidedly pretty.
"I am afraid there is nothing else to be done," she said, and then, as if she feared this might be considered an ungracious speech, she added: "But I fear I am putting you to a great deal of trouble, Mr. Standerton."
Jim looked at her in some surprise.
"You know my name, then?" he said.
"As you see," she answered, with a smile at his astonishment. "I called upon your sister yesterday. My name is Decie, and I live at the Dower House, with my guardian, Mr. Abraham Bursfield."