She turned her grey eyes upon him with a liquid glance of gratitude, as she faltered out words of acknowledgment.
“Oh no, indeed, it is quite unnecessary! Thank you so much all the same. I am vexed with myself for having upset you by being so headstrong, and didn’t hurt myself a bit.”
“That is well, then!” Mr Farrell rose from the table and turned slowly towards the door. As he did so he found himself suddenly confronted by another face—a bright-eyed, mutinous girl’s face, so transparently charged with speech that he stopped short, uttering an involuntary inquiry—
“Well! what is it? What have you got to say?”
Mollie’s lips parted, her head tilted to the side.
“I was in danger, too! much more than she was. I did tumble off! I hung on to the branch of a tree. I might have been injured most dreadfully.”
“Ah–ah!” said Mr Farrell slowly. He turned his head aside, and his lips twitched uncertainly. “You! But you, my dear Mary, can take such uncommonly good care of yourself!”