Grant colored with pleasure, though he disclaimed the praise.
“Oh, it was nothing!” he said, modestly. “But we had better start at once, for he may revive.”
“Oh, let us go then,” exclaimed the girl in terror, and, hardly knowing what she did, she seized Grant's arm. “See, he is beginning to stir. Do come quickly!”
Clinging to Grant's arm, the two hastened away, leaving the inebriate on the ground.
Grant now had leisure to view more closely the girl he had rescued. She was a very pretty girl, a year or two younger than himself, with a bright, vivacious manner, and her young rescuer thought her very attractive.
“Do you live round here?” she asked.
“I live in Colebrook, the village close by. I was walking from Somerset.”
“I should like to know the name of the one who has done me so great a service.”
“We will exchange names, if you like,” said Grant, smiling. “My name is Grant Thornton. I am the son of Rev. John Thornton, who is minister in Colebrook.”
“So you are a minister's son. I have always heard that minister's sons are apt to be wild,” said the girl, smiling mischievously.