[She falls back fainting; Wilfrid catches her in his arms. Leslie kneels beside her, loosening the strings of her bonnet.]
Leslie.
Oh, poor girl! Why, she is no older than I. Ah, Will, she sha’n’t want a shelter! Priscilla! Priscilla!
Wilfrid Brudenell.
Priscilla!
Leslie.
Oh! the carriage! [She runs quickly to the balustrade and looks out into the distance.] It’s there! [She beckons thrice.] Dunstan—come back to me! Come back to me!
END OF THE SECOND ACT.