"Yes, I really think I am all right, but what a fright I must look!"

"Thank God!" said Harry fervently; "I guess you're improving," at which they all laughed.

"Now I think we must get home," said Madame De Lacy. "Do you think you can walk, Maimie?"

"Oh, yes," cried Maimie, and taking Ranald's hand, she tried to stand up, but immediately sank back with a groan.

"Oh, it is my foot," she said, "I am afraid it is hurt."

"Let me see!" cried Harry. "I don't think it is broken," he said, after feeling it carefully, "but I have no doubt it is a very bad sprain. You can't walk for certain."

"Then we shall have to carry her," said Madame De Lacy, and she turned to her son.

"I fear I can offer no assistance," said the lieutenant, pointing to his arm which was hanging limp at his side.

"Why, Albert, are you hurt? What is the matter? You are hurt!" cried his mother, anxiously.

"Not much, but I fear my arm is useless. You might feel it," he said to Ranald.

Carefully Ranald passed his hand down the arm.

"Say nothing," whispered the lieutenant to him. "It's broken. Tie it up some way." Without a word Ranald stripped the bark of a birch tree, and making a case, laid the arm in it and bound it firmly with his silk handkerchief.

"We ought to have a sling," he said, turning to Kate.

"Here," said Madame De Lacy, untying a lace scarf from her neck, "take this."

Kate took the scarf, and while Ranald held the arm in place she deftly made it into a sling.

"There," said the lieutenant, "that feels quite comfortable. Now let's go."

"Come, Maimie, I'll carry you up the hill," said Harry.

"No," said Ranald, decidedly, "she will go in the canoe. That will be easier."

"Quite right," said the lieutenant. "Sims, perhaps you will give my mother your arm, and if Miss Kate will be kind enough to escort me, we can all four go in the carriage; but first we shall see the rest of the party safely off."

"Come, then, Maimie," said Harry, approaching his sister; "let me carry you."

But Maimie glanced up at Ranald, who without a word, lifted her in his arms.

"Put your arm about his neck, Maimie," cried Harry, "you will go more comfortably that way. Ranald won't mind," he added, with a laugh.

At the touch of her clinging arms the blood mounted slowly into Ranald's neck and face, showing red through the dark tan of his skin.

"How strong you are," said Maimie, softly, "and how easily you carry me.

But you would soon tire of me," she added with a little laugh.

"I would not tire forever," said Ranald, as he laid her gently down in the canoe.

"I shall send the carriage to the wharf for you," said Madame De Lacy, "and you will come right home to me, and you, too, Miss Raymond."

Ranald took his place in the stern with Maimie reclining in the canoe so as to face him.

"You are sure you are comfortable," he said, with anxious solicitude in his tone.

"Quite," she replied, with a cosy little snuggle down among the cushions placed around her.

"Then let her go," cried Ranald, dipping in his paddle.

"Good by," cried Kate, waving her hand at them from the rock. "We'll meet you at the wharf. Take good care of your invalid, Ranald."

With hardly a glance at her Ranald replied: "You may be sure of that,"

and with a long, swinging stroke shot the canoe out into the river. For a moment or two Kate stood looking after them, and then, with a weary look in her face, turned, and with the lieutenant, followed Madame De Lacy and Mr. Sims.

"You are tired," said the lieutenant, looking into her face.

"Yes," she replied, with a little sigh, "I think I am tired."

The paddle home was all too short to Ranald, but whether it took minutes or hours he could not have told. As in a dream he swung his paddle and guided his canoe. He saw only the beautiful face and the warm light in the bright eyes before him. He woke to see Kate on the wharf before them, and for a moment he wondered how she came there. Once more, as he bore her from the canoe to the carriage, he felt Maimie's arms clinging about his neck and heard her whisper, "You will not leave me, Ranald,"

and again he replied, "No, I will not leave you."

Swiftly the De Lacy carriage bore them through the crooked, climbing streets of the city and out along the country road, then up a stately avenue of beeches, and drew up before the stone steps, of a noble old chateau. Once more Ranald lifted Maimie in his arms and carried her up the broad steps, and through the great oak-paneled hall into Madame De Lacy's own cosy sitting-room, and there he laid her safely in a snug nest of cushions prepared for her. There was nothing more to do, but to say good by and come away, but it was Harry that first brought this to Ranald's mind.

"Good by, Ranald," said Maimie, smiling up into his face. "I cannot thank you for all you have done to-day, but I am sure Madame De Lacy will let you come to see me sometimes."

"I shall be always glad to see you," said the little lady, with gentle, old-fashioned courtesy, "for we both owe much to you this day."

"Thank you," said Ranald, quietly, "I will come," and passed out of the room, followed by Harry and Kate.

At the great hall door, Kate stood and watched them drive away, waving her hand in farewell.

"Good by," cried Harry, "don't forget us in your stately palace," but Ranald made no reply. He had no thought for her. But still she stood and watched the carriage till the beeches hid it from her view, and then, with her hand pressed against her side, she turned slowly into the hall.

As the carriage rolled down the stately avenue, Ranald sat absorbed in deepest thought, heeding not his companion's talk.

"What's the matter with you, Ranald? What are you thinking of?" at last cried Harry, impatiently.

"What?" answered Ranald, in strange confusion, "I cannot tell you."

Unconsciously as he spoke he put up his hand to his neck, for he was still feeling the pressure of those clinging arms, and all the way back the sounds of the rolling wheels and noisy, rattling streets wrought themselves into one sweet refrain, "You will not leave me, Ranald," and often in his heart he answered, "No, I will not," with such a look on his face as men wear when pledging life and honor.

CHAPTER XXI

I WILL REMEMBER