A long line of draught-horses, dragging blue box-sleighs, came slowly up the road, each jingling a heavy belt of bells.

Five-year-old was frightened and would not come.
Eliza, without irritation, but at the same time without hesitation, took it by the waist under her left arm and started again.

She got half across before the child seemed thoroughly to realise what was occurring, and then, with head and arms in front and little gaitered legs behind, it began to struggle so violently that the young woman, strong and composed as she was, was brought for a minute to a standstill.
Two men were watching her from the smoking-room of the hotel; the one an elderly man, the owner of the house, had his attention arrested by the calm force of character Eliza was displaying; the other, the young American dentist, saw in the incident an excuse for interference, and he rushed out now to the rescue, and gallantly carried the little naughty one safely to the right side of the road.
Eliza, recognising him, saw that he was looking at her with the pleasant air of an old acquaintance--one, in fact, who knew her so well that any formal greeting was unnecessary--not that she knew anything about greetings, or what might or might not be expected, but she had an indistinct sense that he was surprisingly friendly.
"How's the stove going ?" then he asked.

He escorted her into the shop, and superintended her little purchases in a good-natured, elder-brother fashion.

That done, he carried the elder child across the road again, and Eliza went upon her way back down the long narrow pavement, with the children at her side.
She had shown nothing to the young man but composed appreciation of his conduct.