But these precautions were taken in vain, for not ten minutes had elapsed before Sherman was summoned to the drawing-room, there to meet the stranger, who introduced himself, told a most manly and straightforward story, and, having produced an excellent impression of sincerity on his host, left with profuse apologies.
Sherman returned to his sister with a quizzical smile on his face.
"Carol," he said, "what have you been doing?"
Carolina's reply was prompt and to the point.
"I own to being reckless, of trying to conceal my recklessness, under a mistaken sense that I was clever enough to cover my tracks. I vainly endeavoured to spare you an hour's anxiety, and I feel that I am a fool for my pains."
Her brother laughed.
"The man is unmistakably a gentleman. He is in deep trouble over a young woman, not his sister, who has run away, presumably with a man. He tried to trace them and failed."
"Failed?"
"Failed. If she is his wife, may God help her when he catches her, for there was danger in that man's eye. But his pride forbade him to give me more than the bare facts necessary to explain his extraordinary action in surprising you into lending him my horse."
"Was that the way he put it?" asked Carolina.