to his footing. His skate struck a broken oar, imbedded in the ice. He fell violently, and lay like a dead man.
His New Skates, Testimonial of Merit, seem to have served him a shabby trick.
CHAPTER VIII.
TÊTE-À-TÊTE.
Seeing Wade lie there motionless, the lady—
Took off her spectacles, blew her great red nose, and stiffly drew near.
Spectacles! Nose! No,—the latter feature of hers had never become acquainted with the former; and there was as little stiffness as nasal redness about her.
A fresh start, then,—and this time accuracy!
Appalled by the loud thump of the stranger's skull upon the chief river of the State of New York, the lady—it was a young lady whom Wade had tumbled to avoid—turned, saw a human being lying motionless, and swept gracefully toward him, like a Good Samaritan, on the outer edge. It was not her fault, but her destiny, that she had to be graceful even under these tragic circumstances.
"Dead!" she thought. "Is he dead?" The appalling thump had cracked the ice, and
