She was thinking of that ring one day as she walked along the crowded street, filled with eager shoppers, for Christmas was drawing near, and people were busy providing holiday gifts for their dear ones.
"Mizpah!" she repeated to herself, walking heedlessly along the wet and sleety pavement. "That means 'the Lord watch between thee and me while we are absent one from another.' Oh, Leslie, Leslie!"
Absorbed in painful thoughts she began to quicken her steps, quite forgetful of the thin sheet of ice that covered the pavement, and which required very careful walking. How it happened she could not think, but the next moment she felt one ankle twisting suddenly beneath her with a dreadful pain in it, and found herself falling to the ground. With an exclamation of terror she tried to recover her balance, but vainly. She lay extended on the ground, her hat and veil falling off and exposing her beautiful pale face with its clustering locks of sunny hair.
People crowded around her immediately, but the first to reach her was a gentleman who was coming out of a jewelry store in front of which she had slipped and fallen.
He lifted her up tenderly, and a woman restored her hat and veil.
Bonnibel tried to stand upon her feet and thank them both for their timely aid.
To her terror a sharp twinge of pain in her ankle warned her that she could not stand upon it. She uttered a cry of pain and her blue eyes filled with quick tears.
"I—I fear my ankle is sprained," she said, "I cannot stand upon it."
"Never mind," said the gentleman, melted by the tears and the beauty of the sufferer. "Here is my carriage at the curbstone. Give me your address and I will take you home immediately."
Bonnibel was growing so faint from the pain of her sprained ankle that she could scarcely speak, but she murmured brokenly: "Fifth Avenue, number ——," and with a slight exclamation of surprise he lifted her into the carriage and gave the order to the driver.