"Open the windows—more air," he ordered. "Walter, see if you can find some ice water and a little stimulant."
While Craig was taking such restorative measures as were possible on the spur of the moment, Miss Kendall gently massaged her head and hands.
She seemed to understand that she was in the hands of friends, and though she did not know us her mute look of thanks was touching.
"Don't get excited, my dear," breathed Miss Kendall into her ear. "You will be all right soon."
As the wronged girl relaxed from her constant tension of watching, it seemed as if she fell into a stupor. Now and then she moaned feebly, and words, half-formed, seemed to come to her lips only to die away.
Suddenly she seemed to have a vision more vivid than the rest.
"No—no—Mr. Ogleby—leave me. Where—my mother—oh, where is mother?" she cried hysterically, sitting bolt upright and staring at us without seeing us.
Kennedy passed the broad palm of his hand over her forehead and murmured, "There, there, you are all right now." Then he added to us: "I did not send for her mother because I wasn't sure that we might find her even as well as this. Will someone find Carton? Get the address and send a messenger for Mrs. Blackwell."
Sybil was on her knees by the bedside of the girl, holding Betty's hand in both of her own.
"You poor, poor girl," she cried softly. "It is—dreadful."