told her how I had been hurt and of my ride. She heard me through with a glow in her eyes.
"What a story!" said she. "What a daredevil! I do not see how it has been possible for you to live."
She spoke to me always in English of quaint wording and quainter accent. She seemed not to know that I could speak French.
An impressive French tutor—a fine old fellow, obsequious and bald-headed—sat by me all night to give me medicine. In the morning I felt as if I had a new heart in me, and was planning to mount my horse. I thought I ought to go on about my business, but I fear I thought more of the young ladies and the possibility of my seeing them again. The baroness came in after I had a bite to eat. I told her I felt able to ride,
"You are not able, my child. You cannot ride the horse now," said she, feeling my brow; "maybe not for a ver' long time. I have a large house, plenty servant, plenty food. Parbleu! be content. We shall take good care of you. If there is one message to go to your chief, you know I shall send it."
