The thought burned him like a hot iron.
Half a dozen pairs of hands relieved the swimmer of his burden.

Alice was little the worse, a trifle pale, very draggled and unhappy, and utterly tired.

Lady Manorwater wept over her and kissed her, and hailed the dripping Stocks as her preserver.

Lewis alone stood back.

He satisfied himself that she was unhurt, and then, on the plea of getting the carriage, set off down the glen with a very grey, quivering face..