She hurried us out, closing the door behind us. The way was clear: we ran lightly through the halls, hardly daring to breathe until we were safely out of the house and in the carriage.
"Drive to the Catholic cathedral," said Lilly. The carriage-door was shut, and then we could give vent to our emotions. Lilly was half wild: she laughed and cried together. "Do you think he will get well?" she said: "do you think so?"
"How can I tell, Lilly? The buttons seemed to give him enough of a shock."
"Wasn't it wonderful? Oh, Stella, what a romance! It is all perfectly clear to me now."
"It's far from being clear to me."
"Why, don't you see: he met this woman on the boat and engaged with her in some desperate enterprise to save her father. He left the trunk at Uncle David's—"
"Yes, but why didn't he give a name or an address with the trunk?"
"I suppose he was so beside himself that he hardly knew what he was doing. You can see that he is of a very excitable temperament. Then the rest of it is easy to imagine. Poor, poor fellow! how he must have suffered! Didn't you think him very handsome, Stella?"
"Yes, very: he looked like the Corsair."
"Do you suppose he will ever get over it?"