“Sir, how is he?” asked Marian.
“Mercifully unconscious still. The suffering from the scalds would be terrible, otherwise.”
“If Mrs. Rutherford wakes, sir—?”
“I do not suppose she will at present. When she does, try to evade giving particulars. The doctor will come again early. He did not leave Mr. Rutherford until past two.”
And Marian went back to her vigil, not to break it again until the slow hours of night were over.
About six o’clock Dulcibel first opened her eyes. She dozed off again without a word; and two or three more partial awakings followed, before any distinct consciousness of her whereabouts was shown. But at length the light blue eyes examined Marian in rather mystified fashion, and Dulcibel asked—
“What is the matter?”
“Would you like a cup of tea?” asked Marian.
“Tea? Yes, if you please.” Dulcibel shut her eyes, sighed, and seemed dozing off again, Marian stood like a statute, fearing to rouse her, but she soon looked up again, with an impatient—“Why don’t you make haste, and bring me my tea?”
“The water won’t be long boiling,” said Marian, lifting the kettle. “It’s hot now.”