"I beg pardon, ma'am," he said, and even at that moment he waited to lift his hat, "did you fall? Are you injured? How can I best help you?"
Claire Benedict of old had one peculiarity which had often vexed her more nervous young sister: under embarrassing or trying circumstances of any sort, where the average young woman would be likely to cry, she was nearly certain to laugh. It was just what she did at this moment.
"I think I have sprained my ankle," she said between her laughs; "at least, it will not allow me to move without growing faint, so I am keeping still; I thought I needed my senses just now. If you can think of any way of securing a wagon of some sort in which I can ride to the academy, it will help me materially."
"To the academy! Why, that is a mile away! You must take a shorter ride than that for the first one. You can not be very heavy, I should say. Allow me." And before she understood what he was planning sufficiently to attempt a protest, he had stooped and unceremoniously picked her up, and was taking swift strides across the snow-covered lawn to the side piazza of the Ansted house. The gate leading to the carriage-drive was thrown open, so there had been no obstacle in his way.
It was ridiculous to laugh under such circumstances, but this was just what Claire did, while her porter threw open the door, strode through the wide hall, and dropped her among the cushions of a luxurious couch, in one of the bright rooms.
"Here is a maimed lady," he said. "Mamma, Alice, where are some of you?"
"Oh, Louis!" said a familiar voice, "what's the matter? Did you run over her? Why, Fannie, it is Miss Benedict! Mamma! Louis, call mamma, quick!"
And then Claire really accomplished what she had so often threatened, and fainted entirely away.
"It is only a sprain," she explained, directly her eyes were open again; "I was very foolish to faint."
A pleasant, motherly face was bending over her, with eyes like Ella and hair like Fannie; this must be the mother.
"Is it a sprain, do you think?" she asked, "or only a sort of twist? Those things are sometimes very painful for awhile. We have sent for a physician, and shall soon know what to do for you. In the meantime, Fannie, my dear, her boot should be removed."