"She'll be all right in a jiffy.

I've got room for her in my buggy--and room for her in any place that belongs to me," he hastened to reflect with a curious, bashful smile.
"It's like a thing in a book," he murmured, as he neared the waiting people on the banks of Carillon, and the ringing of the vesper bells came out to him on the evening air.
"Is she dead ?" some one whispered, as eager hands reached out to secure his skiff to the bank.
"As dead as I am," he answered with a laugh, and drew Fleda's canoe up alongside his skiff.
He had a strange sensation of new life, as, with delicacy and gentleness, he lifted her up in his strong arms and stepped ashore..