"Oh, you are killing yourself!" she cried in deep distress.
"Not at all, only resting. Where is your father?"
Ella explained and revealed her fears.
"I will go to his aid and Miss Wallingford's as soon as you and Mrs.
Bodine are safe."
"Mr. Houghton, how can I—"
"By giving me the privilege of serving you, and by not making me miserable from seeing you burdened with a sense of obligation," he said quickly. "That is the one thing I have feared—that you would be unhappy because it has been my good-fortune—oh, well, you understand."
She did, better than he, for his swift coming to her aid had banished all doubt of him.
"Please understand, then, that I gratefully and gladly accept your chivalrous help. Have I not seen it given to the old and feeble before? Oh, these heart-rending cries! It seems to me that they will haunt me forever."
"Please support Mrs. Bodine a moment. That is a woman's scream just beyond us. She is evidently injured, and probably held fast in the ruins."
He ran to the spot, and found that a woman had been prostrated and partially buried by the bricks of a falling chimney. She had been unconscious for a time, but now, reviving, her agonized shrieks rose above the other cries. George spoke soothingly to her as he threw the bricks to right and left. She was evidently suffering the extremity of pain, for she again screamed and moaned in the most heart-rending way, although George lifted her as carefully as possible. Laying her down beside Mrs. Bodine he began in distressed perplexity, "What shall we do now? We cannot leave her here."