In half an hour the doctors were there, and the young people retired to the library, to await the result of the consultation. The minutes dragged by; neither Jack nor Queenie made any attempt to talk; both sat listlessly staring at the newspapers in their hands, without making any pretense at reading them. At last the doctors left, but it was some time before they could get any information.
Finally the nurse came down to telephone a prescription and Jack seized upon her eagerly.
“We don’t know anything more,” she replied quietly; “only that if your sister lives through tonight, she is likely to get well.”
Jack swallowed hard and Queenie began to sob.
“Do—you expect her to?” he finally managed to inquire.
“We hope so,” was the unassuring reply. “She is asleep now, under a drug. When she wakens up——”
“About what time?” demanded Queenie.
“Probably about midnight. The doctor is coming back to spend the night here.”
Queenie watched the nurse go back to the sick room and she sat still, pondering.
“I tell you what I’m going to do, Jack,” she said slowly: “I’m going to bed now and set my alarm for about two o’clock.” She began to weep again. “Oh, Jack! She must live!”