“I will,” said Alberta. And she went to the peg where her own everyday bonnet and shawl hung, and she took them down and put them on. Next she turned off the gas, leaving the room dark.
Then she went to the window, pushed it up as high as it would go, got upon the sill, letting the blind drop behind her to hide her means of exit, and took a clear leap down to the sidewalk below. It was a fall of about eight feet, and she came down with a severe shock but with whole bones.
“My own! my own! are you hurt?” exclaimed her lover, in the extremity of anxiety, as he picked her up.
“I—let me recover myself! No, I am not hurt,” answered Alberta, confusedly.
“The carriage is round the corner. Let me lift you and bear you to it.”
“No, I can walk very well now, if you will give me the support of your arm,” answered Miss Goldsborough.
He drew her hand through his arm, and carefully conducted her to the waiting carriage.
How long her school companions remained outside the door of the recreation room, clamoring to come in; or when their patience became exhausted; or how they affected an entrance; or whether they gave the alarm; or who first discovered her flight, Alberta never knew and never cared.
Her lover placed her in a carriage and drove her immediately to the dwelling of a clergyman, where, with the special license Vittorio had taken care to provide, they were married; for in the District of Columbia there is no law to prevent a minor marrying, without the consent of parents or guardians, at any hour.
From the house of the officiating clergyman they went to a hotel, where they remained until the next morning, when they took the boat to Richmond.