“Well,” said Eleanor slowly, “I guess maybe we can forgive you for that; but what I want to know is—what's happened?—who's who?—and where just exactly are we?”
“That's just what I want to know too,” added Eva sadly.
Indeed, they both had a hint of tears in their eyes, and in their voices.
“What has happened,” replied the Count, “is that a couple of thoughtless masqueraders came up here to play a little joke, and succeeded in getting themselves into a scrape. For your share in getting us out of it we cannot feel too grateful.”
“But, who is——?” the girls began together, and then stopped, with a rise of color and a suspicion of displeasure in their interchange of eyes.
“Who is who? Well, my friend is the Baron von Blitzenberg; and the lady is, as she stated, his wife.”
“Then all this time——” began Eva.
“He was married!” Eleanor finished for her. “Oh, the heartless scoundrel! To think that I rescued him!”
“I wouldn't have either!” said Eva; “I mean if—if I had known he treated you so badly.”
“Treated ME! I was only thinking of YOU, Miss Gallosh!”