cottage to where in the bright sunlight into which she had emerged,
stood the Countess Olga.

"Hermia, thank the Lord!" she was saying. "How you've frightened us,
child!" She came quickly forward, but when Markham rose she stopped,
her dark eyes round with astonishment.

"You! John Markham! Well, upon my word! _C'est abracadabrant_!
Here I've been harrowing my soul all morning with thoughts of your
untimely death, Hermia, dear, turning Westport topsy-turvy, to find
you at your ease snugly wrapped in _tte-ˆ-tte_
with this charming social renegade. It is almost too much for one's
patience!"

Hermia rose laughing, and faced the rescue party which came forward
chattering congratulations.

"I thought my friends were too wise ever to be worried about _me_," she
said coolly. "But I'm awfully obliged and flattered. Hilda, have you
met Mr. Markham? Miss Ashhurst, Miss Van Vorst, and Mr. Armistead, Mr.
Markham's island fortunately happened to be just underneath where my
machine decided to miss fire--"

"You _did_ fall then?"

"Well rather--look at my poor bird, there."

Salignac, the mechanician, was already on the spot confirming the
damage.