He knew it was simply the reaction from the excitement of what she had just gone through, and merely continued to hold her in a close embrace, soothing her with words of love and tenderest caresses.
Then when she had grown comparatively calm, he half led, half carried her back to the house and made her lie down on a sofa.
Rosie had been carried to an upper room, put to bed, and was being cared for by the doctor, Violet and her mother, who had just come to Woodburn, intending to spend the evening and take Rosie home, and had been met at the entrance with the news of the little girl’s injury.
Grace had followed her father and was close beside him when he laid Lulu down.
“Papa,” she sobbed, “is—is Lu hurt too? Oh, I was afraid she’d be killed doing that for Rosie!”
“No, pet; she is not hurt,” he answered, drawing the little weeper into his arms.
“Then what makes her look so white?”
“She feels a little sick; but will get over it very soon, I hope. Come in, my dears,” seeing the other young guests gathered about the door. “This seems an unfortunate ending to your day’s pleasure.”
They came in very quietly, looking sober and subdued, asking how Lulu was, and receiving the same reply he had given to Gracie.
“Where is Max?” asked the captain, but nobody knew.