“To last her for the rest of her life,” laughed Luella, turning back. “'Twill be a blood-curdling tale by the time she reaches the East once more. And now do be sensible—no, you sit right where you are—and tell me how it all happened, and what it was about.”
I revolved for a moment the plan of a romance that would have, at least, the merit of chaining Miss Knapp's interest. But it was gone as I looked into her serious eyes.
“That's what I should like to know myself,” I confessed candidly. Then I added with pardonable mendacity: “I think I must have been taken for somebody else, if it was anything more than a desperate freak of the highbinders.”
“Are you sure they had no interest in seeking you?” asked Luella gravely, with a charming tremor in her voice.
Before I could reply, Mrs. Knapp's voice was in my ear, and Mrs. Knapp's figure was in the archway of the alcove.
“Oh, you are here,” she said. “I thought I heard your voices. Luella, your father wants to see you a minute. And how do you do, Mr. Wilton?”
I greeted Mrs. Knapp cordially, though I wished that she had delayed her appearance, and looked regretfully after Luella.
“I want to thank you for your heroism the other evening,” she said.
“Oh, it was nothing,” I answered lightly. “Any one would have done the same.”
“Perhaps—but none the less we are all very grateful. If I had only suspected that anything of the kind could have happened, I should never have allowed them to go.”