“Thank God, you’re not dead.”
“I don’t know so much about that,” said he, rising to his feet.
The young woman of the car who had been following Olivia more or less in her descent, appeared from behind the bush.
She, too, thanked God. He had been saved by a miracle. How had he escaped?
“A providence which looks after idiots caused me to be hurled out of the car at the first bump. I fell into the gorse. I’m not in the least bit hurt. Please don’t worry about me.”
“You must let us drive you home—I’ll call my husband,” said the young woman.
“Thank you very much,” said he, “but I’m perfectly sound and I’d rather walk; but this lady seems to have had a shock and no doubt——”
The young woman, perplexed, turned to Olivia. “You said this—gentleman—” for Alexis stood trim in brass-buttoned and legginged chauffeur’s livery—“you said he was your husband.”
“A case of mistaken identity,” he replied suavely. Olivia, her brain in a whirl, said nothing. The young woman advanced a few steps and coo-eed to the young man who had just reached the ravine. As he turned on her hail, she halloed the tidings that all was well.
“He’ll be here in a few minutes,” she said.