At this moment we heard some one working at the lock on the other side. The door opened, and there stood our hero.
"I heard some one at this door," he said; "and supposing it had been accidentally closed, I came up and opened it."
"Thank you; thank you very much!" cried Miss Vancouver.
And away she ran to the house. If only I were late, it did not matter at all. I followed with our hero, and endeavored to make some explanation of the predicament of myself and the young lady. He took it all as a matter of course, as if the old court-yard were a place of general resort.
"When persons stroll through that door," he said, "they should put a piece of stick or of stone against the jamb, so that if the door is blown shut by the wind the latch may not catch."
And then he called my attention to a beautiful plant of the aloe kind which had just begun to blossom.
Miss Vancouver reached the breakfast-table in good time, but she told me afterward she would work in the old court-yard no more. The perils were too many.
For some days after this our story made little progress, for opportunities for consultation did not occur. I was particularly sorry for this, because I wanted very much to know how Miss Vancouver liked my indicative speech and what she had made of it. Early one afternoon about this time our hero, between whom and myself a slight acquaintance had sprung up, came to me and said:
