"So do we," said Selma. "And he belongs to US. You must go. Come!" She seized her by the arm, and beckoning one of the waiting Leaguers to her assistance she pushed her quietly but relentlessly along the hall, out of the house, out of the yard and into the carriage. Then she closed the door, while Jane sank back against the cushions.
"Yes, he belongs to you," said Jane; "but I love him. Oh, Selma!"
Selma suddenly burst into tears. "Go, Jane, dear. You MUST go," she cried.
"At least I'll wait here until—until they are sure," said Jane. "You can't refuse me that, Selma."
"But they are sure," said Selma. "You must go with your friends. Here they come."
When Ellen Clearwater and Joe Wetherbe—the second son of the chief owner of the First National—reached the curb, Selma said to Wetherbe:
"Please stand aside. I've something to say to this lady."
When Wetherbe had withdrawn, she said: "Miss Hastings is—not quite herself. You had better take her home alone."
Jane leaned from the open carriage window. "Ellen," said she, "I am going to stay here until Victor recovers consciousness, and I am SURE."
"He has just come around," said Ellen. "He is certain to get well. His mind is clear."