“I fainted!” cried Pixie proudly. “I never fainted before in all my life. I don’t remember a single thing after I slipped, until I woke up on this sofa.”
“Indeed!—and a very sensible arrangement. Just as well to know nothing about these disagreeable experiences.”
The doctor smiled, and fingered her head with a careful touch. “Does that hurt you? No? Does that? Do you feel any tenderness there? A little bit, eh? You don’t like me to press it? You probably grazed yourself slightly as you fell, and that caused the ‘faint.’ Nothing serious, though. You need not be frightened.”
“I like it!” said Pixie stoutly, and the burst of laughter with which the two hearers greeted this statement, sounded pleasantly in the Captain’s ears as he dressed himself in the lock-keeper’s Sunday garments in the room overhead.
Chapter Thirty One.
Lovers’ Meetings.
The doctor saw no reason why Pixie should not be driven home, and offered to order a closed carriage in the village, and pending its arrival, the adventurers enjoyed another cup of tea, not smoked this time, and made merry over the change in their appearance, wrought by the borrowed clothing.