"What! how's this?" said her father.
"I can only suppose," said Maggie, "that his toothache is worse, and he could not bear to stay to breakfast, so he went away."
Elsie looked into her plate, and said nothing; Maggie's words stabbed her like a knife, and cut her to the quick. She knew that Alec's pain was deeper seated than a tooth nerve. Her own feelings at this moment told her how acutely he must have felt. She blamed herself entirely. She had not known what she was doing; she was mad to act as she had done; she had behaved abominably; her sin had found her out.
Bond was full of sympathy, and said he was sorry and hoped the headache would soon go. A cup of tea would do her good; then a rest in a dark room. He had never known what a headache was, but could feel for others, especially for Elsie. Yes, he was very sorry. Could he send her some smelling-salts, or anything else, from Mountfield. He would ride there and back in four hours. No, Elsie did not need anything; rest would do her good. She drank some tea, then went to her room and lay down.
She heard her father and Bond ride away; then she rose and went to the hut, where she found Pat.
"Pat, please get my horse in, saddle him, and bring him to the door."
"Sure, Miss Elsie! it's a gallop over the hills and far away that'll make the roses bloom on ye'r cheeks. Faix, Miss! ye're loike a wax image o' the Blessed Vargin."
"Thank you, Pat."
She went to her room, put on her riding habit, then found Maggie and told her she was going for a gallop, as she did not feel well.