“Shall I help you to take her over to the house?” she added, drawing an arm beneath the form of the insensible girl.

“Thank you!” There was a tone of respect in the young man’s voice.  “But I can carry her myself;” and he raised the insensible form in his arms, and, following the young stranger, bore it into her humble dwelling.  As he laid her upon a bed, he asked, eagerly,—­

“Is there a doctor near?”

“Yes, sir,” replied the girl.  “If you will come to the door, I will show you the doctor’s house; and I think he must be at home, for I saw him go by only a quarter of an hour since.  John will take care of your horse while you are away, and I will do my best for the poor lady.”

The doctor’s house, about a quarter of a mile distant, was pointed out, and the young man hurried off at a rapid speed.  He was gone only a few minutes when his insensible companion revived, and, starting up, looked wildly around her.

“Where am I?  Where is George?” she asked, eagerly.

“He has gone for the doctor; but will be back very soon,” said the young woman, in a kind, soothing voice.

“For the doctor!  Who’s injured?” She had clasped her hands across her forehead, and now, on removing them, saw on one a wet stain of blood.  With a frightened cry she fell backs upon the pillow from which she had risen.

“I don’t think you are much hurt,” was said, in a tone of encouragement, as with a damp cloth the gentle stranger wiped very tenderly her forehead.  “The cut is not deep.  Have you pain anywhere?”

“No,” was faintly answered.

“You can move your arms; so they are uninjured.  And now, won’t you just step on to the floor, and see if you can bear your weight?  Let me raise you up, There, put your foot down—­now the other—­now take a step—­now another.  There are no bones broken!  How glad I am!”

How earnest, how gentle, how pleased she was.  There was no acting in her manner.  Every tone, expression, and gesture showed that heart was in everything.

“O, I am glad!” she repeated.  “It might have been so much worse.”

The first glance into the young girl’s face was one of identification; and even amid the terror that oppressed her heart, the unwilling visitor felt a sense of painful mortification.  There was no mistaking that peculiar countenance.  But how different she seemed!  Her voice was singularly sweet, her manner gentle and full of kindness, and in her movements and attitude a certain ease that marked her as one not to be classed, even by the over-refined young lady who was so suddenly brought within her power, among the common herd.

All that assiduous care and kind attention could do for the unhappy girl, until the doctor’s arrival, was done.  After getting back to the bed from which she bad been induced to rise, in order to see if all her limbs were sound, she grew sick and faint, and remained so until the physician came.  He gave it as his opinion that she had received some internal injuries, and that it would not be safe to attempt her removal.