“I came yesterday afternoon,” Nell answered, colouring vividly, her eyes dropping before his steady gaze in an embarrassed fashion.
“Well, you came just right. How is Mrs. Munson?” he asked, descending from his horse, which stood with a drooping head.
“You mean the sick woman?” she asked quickly.
“Of course. What! don’t you know her name even?” And he stared at Nell harder than before.
“Mr. Giles only called her ‘poor aunt,’ so I did not know,” Nell said, in apology. “Will you go right in and see her, if you please, sir? and I will look after your horse.”
“How is she?” demanded the doctor.
“I think she is better. She has been asleep ever since about midnight, only rousing up when I’ve given her food.”
A broad smile broke over the doctor’s rugged face, quite transforming it, and he exclaimed, in a delighted tone—
“Well, that is good hearing! If she has slept so long she will pull through now, with care.”
Nell led the horse away to the barn. Giles had gone with his two horses and the wagon to fetch a last load of corn from a distant field; but he had told her before he went where she could find a feed for the doctor’s horse, and when she had done this, she stayed to give the heated animal a rub down, just as she used to do for old Blossom.