The ground in wild disdain;

I caught them in an instant,

And held them by the rein.

It seems the man had fainted

In his elegant coupé;

I saw his face a moment,

And then I turned away,

Wishing my steps had led me

Through other streets that day.

Some one who saw the rescue

Afterward told him my name.

For the first in many a season,

[Pg 25]

Beneath our roof he came.

I said I was deserving

Little of praise or blame.

It was my uncle's face in the carriage;

He made regret of the past;

No more of my love or wishes

Would he be the iconoclast;

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