"Madam," he said, with that quiet irony which was the gift of his cold nature, "it is rather late, and your toilet somewhat disarranged for the presence of gentlemen; allow me to lead you to a mirror." It was not necessary; Mabel had seen herself reflected in the great oval glass opposite, and shrunk back, shocked both by her appearance and the cold insult to which it had given rise.
James Harrington remained silent, but his eyes grew bright with indignation, while Ralph flung one arm around his mother's waist, and turned his bright face upon the general.
"My mother's life has been in peril—she comes back to us, father, almost cold from the dead."
"Indeed!" said the general with a look of cold surprise. "Surely, madam, you did not remain out in the storm? You have not been on the river all this time?"
"I have been in the depths of the river, I believe!" answered Mabel. "The boat was upset—I was dashed beneath the wheels of a steamer, but for—" She hesitated, and a red flush shot over her face; the noble woman recovered herself in an instant, "but for James, and Ben Benson."
An answering flush came to the general's cheek. He darted a quick glance at James.
"And how came Mr. Harrington so near you, madam? They told me you had gone upon the river alone."
"And so she did," answered James, stepping forward. "I saw her put out from the shore, apparently unconscious of the coming storm, and followed the course of her boat."
"Why did you not warn her, sir?"
"I did, more than once at the top of my voice, but the wind was against me!"