A Damsel in Distress

"Well, that's that!" said George.

"I'm so much obliged," said the girl.

"It was a pleasure," said George.

He was enabled now to get a closer, more leisurely and much more

satisfactory view of this distressed damsel than had been his good

fortune up to the present. Small details which, when he had first

caught sight of her, distance had hidden from his view, now

presented themselves. Her eyes, he discovered, which he had

supposed brown, were only brown in their general colour-scheme.

They were shot with attractive little flecks of gold, matching

perfectly the little streaks gold which the sun, coming out again

on one of his flying visits and now shining benignantly once more on

the world, revealed in her hair. Her chin was square and

determined, but its resoluteness was contradicted by a dimple and

by the pleasant good-humour of the mouth; and a further softening

of the face was effected by the nose, which seemed to have started

out with the intention of being dignified and aristocratic but had

defeated its purpose by tilting very slightly at the tip. This was

a girl who would take chances, but would take them with a smile and

laugh when she lost.

George was but an amateur physiognomist, but he could read what was

obvious in the faces he encountered; and the more he looked at this

girl, the less he was able to understand the scene which had just

occurred. The thing mystified him completely. For all her

good-humour, there was an air, a manner, a something capable and

defensive, about this girl with which he could not imagine any man

venturing to take liberties. The gold-brown eyes, as they met his

now, were friendly and smiling, but he could imagine them freezing

into a stare baleful enough and haughty enough to quell such a

person as the silk-hatted young man with a single glance. Why,

then, had that super-fatted individual been able to demoralize her

to the extent of flying to the shelter of strange cabs? She was

composed enough now, it was true, but it had been quite plain that

at the moment when she entered the taxi her nerve had momentarily

forsaken her. There were mysteries here, beyond George.

The girl looked steadily at George and George looked steadily at

her for the space of perhaps ten seconds. She seemed to George to

be summing him up, weighing him. That the inspection proved

satisfactory was shown by the fact that at the end of this period

she smiled. Then she laughed, a clear pealing laugh which to George

was far more musical than the most popular song-hit he had ever

written.