"I ... I will not stay here--" she began. But two hands held her firmly
down, and Alice's reassuring face was looking into her own.
* * * * *
When her mind ran clearly again, she sat up with a sudden movement,
drawing her foot away from Janet's ministrations.
"I do very well," she said, after looking at her foot, and then putting
it to the ground amid a duet of protestations. (She had looked round the
room to satisfy herself that no one else was there, and had seen that it
must be the parlour that she was in. A newly-lighted fire burned on the
hearth, and the two doors were closed.)
Then Alice explained.
It was impossible, she said, to ride on at once; the horse even now was
being bathed in the stable, as his mistress in the parlour. The squire
had been most considerate; he had helped to carry her in here just now,
had lighted the fire with his own hands, and had stated that dinner
would be sent in here in an hour for the three women. He had offered to
send one of his own men on to Booth's Edge with the news, if Mistress
Marjorie found herself unable to ride on after dinner.
"But ... but it is Mr. Audrey!" exclaimed Marjorie.
"Yes, my dear," said Alice. "I know it is. But that does not mend your
foot," she said, with unusual curtness. And Marjorie saw that she still
looked at her anxiously.
* * * * *
The three women dined together, of course, in an hour's time.
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