“Oh where—where—is he?” she said, looking straight up into Miss Stelway’s face. “She sunk—him—I know she—did. I saw—her cling-ing to him.”
With Miss Stelway’s assistance she sat up, and her eyes met mine. When, with an affected scream, she buried her face in Miss Stelway’s bosom, and sobbed.
“There, darling,” said Miss S., “compose yourself; we all are safe, and are nearly at the shore.”
“Oh, Nellie,” said Miss Finnock, between her sobs, “did—they—all—see my—feet?”
Those at the Lake House had seen the accident, and Herrara met us at the shore with his carriage. We drove rapidly back to the town, and were met by mother, with uplifted hands and a face full of horror. Afraid of forming a scene, I bade them good morning, and went over to my room to change my clothes. A strange happiness was at my heart, for Carlotta had pressed my hand, when we parted, with grateful fervor.
[CHAPTER XXXVII.]
Our accident formed quite a subject of sensation in Saratoga, and, in a small way, I found myself the hero of the occasion, and scores of the “fellows” echoed Monte’s sentiments, when he said:
“Smith, I vow I would like to have been in your place. ‘Twas jolly, I know, saving that angelic Lola. The devil take your good luck! did she hold on tight?”