stood the anxious man-servant and
the maid. Into the coach she was drawn by the relieved old lady, who
was critically inspecting her personal appearance when Lorry and the
foreigner entered.

"Ach, it was so wild and exhilarating, Aunt Yvonne," the girl was
saying, her eyes sparkling. She stood straight and firm, her chin in the
air, her hands in those of her aunt. The little traveling cap was on
the side of her head, her hair was loose and very much awry, strands
straying here, curls blowing there in utter confusion. Lorry fairly
gasped with admiration for the loveliness that would not be vanquished.

"We came like the wind! I shall never, never forge: it," she said.

"But how could you have remained there, child? Tell me how it happened.
We have been frantic," said her aunt, half in English, half in German.

"Not now, dear Aunt Yvonne. See my hair! What a fright I must be!
Fortunate man, your hair cannot be so unruly as mine. Oh!" The
exclamation was one of alarm. In an instant she was at his side, peering
with terrified eyes at the bloodstains on his neck and face. "It is
blood! You are hurt! Uncle Caspar, Hedrick--quick! Attend him! Come to
my room at once. You are suffering. Minna, find bandages!"

She dragged him to the door of her section before he could interpose a
remonstrance.

"It is nothing--a mere scratch. Bumped my head against the side of the
coach. Please don't worry about it; I can care for myself. Really, it
doesn't--"

"But it does! It has bled terribly. Sit there! Now, Hedrick, some
water."

Hedrick rushed off and was back in a moment with a basin of water, a
sponge and a towel, and before Grenfall fully knew what was happening,
the man-servant was bathing his head, the others looking on anxiously,
the young lady apprehensively, her hands clasped before her as she bent
over to inspect the wound above his ear.

"It is quite an ugly cut," said Uncle Caspar, critically. "Does it pain
you, sir?"

"Oh, not a great deal," answered Lorry, closing his eyes comfortably. It
was all very pleasant, he thought.

"Should it not have stitches, Uncle Caspar?" asked the sweet, eager
voice.

"I think not. The flow is staunched. If the gentleman will allow Hedrick
to trim the hair away for a plaster and then bandage it I think the
wound will give him no trouble." The old man spoke slowly and in very
good English.

"Really, Uncle, is it not serious?"

"No, no," interposed Grenfall Lorry. "I knew it w