"Love is a fine narcotic," replied I, laughing. "I felt no wound while you looked at me. But now that you bring me down to earth with a rush, I begin to remember it. But it is nothing much, and will best wait till we are in Moscow."
"Do you think I will let anyone see that wound before I do? Why, it was gained for my sake. And you love me? And now"—"now" was a long loving kiss and a lingering look into my face as she held it between her hands, while her eyes were radiant with delight. Then she sighed—"Now, I am all sister again."
I was looking my doubts of this and meant to test them, shaking my head in strong disbelief, when the carriage stopped suddenly. Looking out I saw that we were at the inn, and must therefore have been driving long over two hours. It had seemed scarce a minute.
"Will you get out while we change horses, sir?" asked the Prince's servant, who had come with the carriage on horseback.
"My brother is wounded and must have attendance at once," said Olga, in so self-possessed a tone that I smiled.
"Only a scratch," said I, as if impatiently. "But my sister is always fidgety."
We went into the house then, and Olga insisted upon examining the wound, and when she saw the blood I had lost, not much, but making brave shew on my white linen, she was all solicitude, and anxiety. She sent the maids flying this way and that, one to fetch hot water, another bandages, a third lint, and altogether made such a commotion in the place that one would have thought I had been brought there to die.
She bathed the little spot so tenderly and delicately too, asking every moment if her touch hurt me; and she washed it and then covered it, and bandaged it and bound it up, and did everything with such infinite care that I was almost glad I had been wounded.
And the whole process she accompanied with a running fire of would-be scolding comment upon the trouble that brothers gave, the obstinate creatures they were, the rash and foolish things they did, how much more bother they were than sisters, and a great deal more to the same effect—till I thought the people would see through the acting as clearly as I did, assisted as I was by the thousand little glints and glances she threw to me when the others were not looking our way.
Then she held a long consultation with the landlady—a large woman who seemed as kindly in heart as she was portly in body—whether it would be safe for me to go on to the city that night, or whether a doctor had not better be brought out to me there: and it took the persuasion and assurances of us all to win her consent to my going on.