"It appears so," remarked Moore, levelling another of his keen, quiet glances at the discomfited Shirley.--"Now," he continued, addressing the carter, "I think you may take what remains to the Hollow. Your load will be somewhat lighter than the one Miss Keeldar destined you to carry."
As the vehicle rumbled out of the yard, Shirley, rallying her spirits, demanded what had become of the wounded.
"There was not a single man hurt on our side," was the answer.
"You were hurt yourself, on the temples," interposed a quick, low voice--that of Caroline, who, having withdrawn within the shade of the door, and behind the large person of Mrs. Gill, had till now escaped Moore's notice. When she spoke, his eye searched the obscurity of her retreat.
"Are you much hurt?" she inquired.
"As you might scratch your finger with a needle in sewing."
"Lift your hair and let us see."

"It appears so," remarked Moore, levelling another of his keen, quiet glances at the discomfited Shirley. - "Now," he continued to the carter, "Your load is somewhat lighter. Take it to the Hollow."
As the vehicle rumbled out of the yard, Shirley demanded what had become of the wounded.
"There was not a single man hurt on our side," was the answer.
"You were hurt yourself, on the head," interposed a quick, low voice - that of Caroline, in the doorway, who had till now escaped Moore's notice. "Are you much hurt?"
"As you might scratch your finger with a needle in sewing."
"Lift your hair and let us see."
