“And believe me sincere when I say that it is not from any choice of mine that I cannot stay to gratify your curiosity, madam,” I replied. “To-morrow, should you be of the same mind, I shall count myself fortunate in relating the experiences of a life that has been mostly spent in roving the cities of the Continent. To-night it is impossible, for a soldier’s first obedience is to duty.”
“Do not let me detain you, sir,” she answered somewhat coldly, turning slowly from the window and moving towards the stair.
“I trust, madam,” I said humbly, anxious not to lose her good opinion, “that you are not offended by my abrupt departure?”
“How should that be, Mr. Cassilis?” she replied graciously. “Are we not friends?”
I bowed low to conceal the exultation her words caused me, and then, taking my hat and cloak, I advanced to the table for my pistols. On a sudden I was startled by a low cry of pain from behind me. I turned swiftly at the sound. My lady had stumbled upon the lowest step and had fallen forward upon her hands. She recovered her feet almost immediately, but only to lean with half-closed eyes against the carved oak balustrade.
“Are you ill, madam?” I cried anxiously, crossing quickly to her side.
“No, no, it is nothing, sir,” she gasped. “Only my foot slipped, and my wrist—I am afraid that it is sprained.” And again a piteous little moan that was almost a sob escaped her lips.
“Let me summon assistance, madam,” I said hastily, stepping to the door.
“No, no,” she cried again, “I beg that you will not, sir. Indeed, it is nothing, and I would not alarm my—my sister.”
“Yet I fear that you are in pain, my lady,” I said, pausing irresolutely, my hand upon the handle.