"You know, Kate, I was better; besides I thought I saw him coming, and went to meet him; but it proved to be William Murray."
"The young bear—what brought him back?"
"He has been wrecked."
"Nonsense! wrecked! he has been spinning a yarn to you, Daisy."
"I never yet knew William to tell an untruth," I replied, a little indignantly.
"Truth or not, were you to make us anxious just to listen to the stories of that boy. Cornelius has come back from Italy with banditti notions; and he would have it that some ill-looking fellows, whom he met as he was going, had lingered on the beach until dusk to waylay you. So off he ran like a madman. Look at him. See how pale he is still!"
Cornelius, who had lingered behind, entered the parlour as his sister spoke; my heart smote me to see that he was deadly pale. He sat down by the table, leaned his elbow upon it, and rested his brow on the palm of his hand, so that his face was shaded from the light.
"Cornelius, what ails you?" asked Kate.
"I am tired," he answered, without looking up.
"Dr. Reeves was out, so I went for Dr. Simpson."