“No. Run along with that ammonia.”
It seemed to Madison a long time that he sat there alone, and he felt very dizzy. Once he tried to rise, but had to give it up and remain sitting with his eyes shut. At last he heard Cora’s door open and close; and his wife and the doctor came slowly down the stairs, Mrs. Madison talking in the anxious yet relieved voice of one who leaves a sick-room wherein the physician pronounces progress encouraging.
“And you’re sure her heart trouble isn’t organic?” she asked.
“Her heart is all right,” her companion assured her. “There’s nothing serious; the trouble is nervous. I think you’ll find she’ll be better after a good sleep. Just keep her quiet. Hadn’t she been in a state of considerable excitement?”
“Ye-es—she——”
“Ah! A little upset on account of opposition to a plan she’d formed, perhaps?”
“Well—partly,” assented the mother.
“I see,” he returned, adding with some dryness: “I thought it just possible.”
Madison got to his feet, and stepped down from the stairs for them to pass him. He leaned heavily against the wall.
“You think she’s going to be all right, Sloane?” he asked with an effort.