"My husband is putting out some clothes for you upstairs, sir. You had better go and change. The young lady is all right now, and I will tell you when the doctor comes." "Doctor! Is a doctor coming? To see me?" Pixie asked, rapturously incredulous. To find herself the heroine of an adventure, a genuine thrilling adventure, to lie stretched upon a sofa, wrapped in blankets, with two attendants anxiously inquiring her symptoms; to know that a doctor was hurrying to her side--this was indeed a glorious ending to the day's enjoyment! She lay back on the cushions wreathed in smiles, and the doctor, coming in hurriedly, was somewhat taken aback to behold so radiant a patient. "I fainted!" cried Pixie proudly. "I never fainted before in all my life. I don't remember a single thing after I slipped, until I woke up on this sofa." "Indeed!--and a very sensible arrangement. Just as well to know nothing about these disagreeable experiences." The doctor smiled, and fingered her head with a careful touch. "Does that hurt you? No? Does that? Do you feel any tenderness there? A little bit, eh? You don't like me to press it? You probably grazed yourself slightly as you fell, and that caused the `faint.' Nothing serious, though. You need not be frightened." "I like it!" said Pixie stoutly, and the burst of laughter with which the two hearers greeted this statement, sounded pleasantly in the Captain's ears as he dressed himself in the lock-keeper's Sunday garments in the room overhead. CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. LOVERS' MEETINGS. The doctor saw no reason why Pixie should not be driven home, and offered to order a closed carriage in the village, and pending its arrival, the adventurers enjoyed another cup of tea, not smoked this time, and made merry over the change in their appearance, wrought by the borrowed clothing. Pixie's red merino dress was the pride of little Miss Lock-keeper's heart, but about two sizes too big for its present occupant. The bodice hung in folds about her tiny figure, the sleeves came down to her finger-tips; the Captain's shiny black suit made him appear quite clumsy and awkward, but that was all part of the fun, in the estimation of three members of the party, at least. Mrs Wallace was undecided whether to laugh or to cry as she welcomed her truants and listened to the story of their adventures. Nothing would satisfy her but to despatch Pixie to bed forthwith, to that young lady's intense mortification, and to order the Captain upstairs to have a hot bath and a dose of quinine. When he came downstairs, she was putting a letter in the post-box in the hall, and, motioning towards it, explained its purport. "I've been writing to Mamzelle's sister in London. These lock accidents get into the papers sometimes, and are generally exaggerated into something really so thrilling and terrible. It's best to tell the true story ourselves."