"Listen to me," she said; "Daisy is very ill, Mr. Meads, and she may be ill many days. I had her carried into my house, and sent for Mr. Bennet at once. He cannot tell at present how long this state will last—it is impossible to know—but he will look in and see her again in an hour or two."
Isaac's dull eyes travelled slowly from Daisy's senseless form to Mrs. Roper's kind sad face,—she always looked sad when others were in trouble.
"Been—a' struck—with lightning," he muttered, as if the idea had just managed to find its way into his poor old mind, through a doorway which had long been well-nigh clogged up with gold-dust. "Been a' struck with lightning! And whose fault's that, I'd like to know?" Isaac glared round quite fiercely, as if he wanted very much to punish somebody for what had happened.
"It is nobody's fault," said Mrs. Roper. "It is nobody's fault, Mr. Meads. Daisy saw a man holding up a pitchfork, and, knowing the danger to him, she bravely rushed to stop him, and he and she were struck together. We hope she is not so much hurt as he is, but we cannot tell yet. It is a great trouble for you, Mr. Meads, but it comes from God's Hand, and you have to be thankful that it is not worse. Daisy might have been killed on the spot. Now you must all three go out of the room, and leave me with Daisy. Bess and I have to put her to bed. Then I will come and speak to Mr. Meads about a nurse, and I shall want one of you men to go on an errand—so please do not both leave yet."
Isaac looked stupefied, but Will Saunders pulled him away. Humphrey had work to do elsewhere, which could not be longer delayed: so Saunders remained behind, doing his best to cheer the old man, and receiving small response for his pains. Isaac sat dolefully in silence, with staring eyes and dropping jaw, lost in a remembrance of Mrs. Roper's last words. When Mrs. Roper at length came into the room, Saunders thoughtfully retired into the passage, leaving the two alone together. He was the chief carpenter in Banks, young still, and a remarkably thoughtful and obliging man in his ways.
"Daisy is in bed," Mrs. Roper said, standing in front of old Isaac; and he stood up slowly, waiting to hear what she would say. "We have put her to bed, and I do not think she has been quite unconscious all the time, though she does not open her eyes yet. But I have come now to ask you about a nurse. I will watch by her till some one can come. That is all I can do, I fear, and she will need good nursing, poor child. You must hire somebody, Mr. Meads."
Isaac's face grew longer and longer. "Doctor and nurse!" he ejaculated. "And how ever in the world am I to pay for doctor and nurse, I'd like to know! It'll be ruin—stark ruin!"
"Come, come,—you and I know better, Mr. Meads," Mrs. Roper said significantly, for she happened to be more intimately acquainted with the condition of Isaac Meads' affairs than perhaps anybody else in Banks. "No danger of ruin at present. Of course you must have doctor and nurse, and of course you must pay for them too. Why, you would not wish Daisy to die for want of proper care, would you,—your own little Daisy! We sent off John Davis to the hospital, for there was nothing else to be done in his case; but everybody felt sure that you in your position wouldn't and couldn't want your dear little Daisy to go to the hospital—couldn't want it, Mr. Meads. All Banks would have cried shame upon the notion; and you would be shocked at it yourself as much as anybody,—would you not?"
Isaac certainly did look shocked, but whether at the idea of Little Sutton hospital for Daisy was another matter. "Nurse!—and doctor!—and medicine!" he murmured. "It'll be stark ruin. And all of 'em free in the hospital."
Mrs. Roper drew a step nearer.