“Stop! stop! Madame Gobelli!” she exclaimed; “can’t you see, he has fainted!”
It was really true! Bobby had fainted dead away in his chair, where he lay white as a sheet, with closed eyes, and limp body. Miss Wynward flew to her pupil’s assistance.
“Poor dear boy! I was sure he was not well directly he entered the house,” she said.
“Not well!” replied the Baroness, “nonsense! what should ail ’im? ’Is father was one of the strongest men on God’s earth! He never ’ad a day’s illness in ’is life. ’Ow should the boy, a great ’ulking fellow like ’im, ’ave got ill?”
She spoke roughly, but there was a tremor in her voice as she uttered the words, and she looked at Bobby as though she were afraid of him.
But as he gradually revived under Miss Wynward’s treatment, she approached nearer, and said with some tenderness in her tones,
“Well! Bobby, lad, and ’ow do you feel now?”
“Better, Mamma, thank you! only my head keeps going round!”
“Had I not better help him up to his bed, my lady?” asked Miss Wynward.
“O! yes! but I ’ope ’e isn’t going to make a fool of ’imself like this again, for I don’t ’old with boys fainting like hysterical gals!”