He dabbed his face with it, and slowly, with her assistance, sat
up.
"Where is he?" he asked.
"He has gone," she told him. "I--ordered him to go."
"Better late than never," said Lord Ronald thoughtfully.
He leaned upon the edge of the fountain, still mopping the blood from
his face, till, suddenly feeling his beard, he stripped it off with a
gesture of impatience.
"Afraid I must have given you a nasty shock," he said. "I didn't expect
to be mauled like this."
"Please--please don't apologise," she begged him, with a sound that was
meant for a laugh, but was in effect more like a sob.
He turned towards her in his slow way.
"I'm not apologising. Only--you know--I've taken something of a liberty,
though, on my honour, it was well meant. If you can overlook that----"
"I shall never overlook it," she said tremulously.
He put the _chuddah_ back from his head and regarded her gravely. His
face was swollen and discoloured, but this fact did not in the smallest
degree lessen the quaint self-assurance of his demeanour.
"Yes, but you mustn't cry about it," he said gently. "And you mustn't
blame yourself either. I knew the fellow, remember; you didn't."
"I didn't know you, either," she said, sitting down on the edge of the
fountain. "I--I've been a perfect fool!"
Silence followed this statement. She did not know quite whether she
expected Lord Ronald to agree with her or to protest against the
severity of her self-arraignment, but she found his silence peculiarly
hard to bear.
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