But her hesitation was only momentary. Most men were chivalrous.
The aviator was on his knees as she approached. He heard her coming and sprang to his feet, very visibly startled.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” panted Cora, with an attempt to smile. “I saw you come down here and I ran over as fast as I could. I had to see you, because I’m lost out here in the woods, and I was sure you would help me.”
He was of medium height. The garments in which he was wrapped to protect him from the intense cold of the upper air made it impossible to tell whether his form was large or slender.
“You poor child!” exclaimed the stranger in great surprise and sympathy. “Don’t be afraid to tell me all about it,” he said. “Look!”
He took off his hat, and Cora’s startled eyes saw two large braids of hair coiled tightly about his head.
The aviator was a woman!
The next moment she had her arms about Cora, and the latter was sobbing as though her heart would break.
“There, there, my dear,” said the newcomer, patting Cora’s disheveled hair, “go ahead and cry all you want to. It will do you good, and I know just how you feel. But you’re all right now.”
The revulsion from despair to joy had been so great that it was some minutes before Cora recovered her self-control.