When he came into the drawing-room, he said, "It is a compound fracture, and of a very bad kind. I fear she will never pull through; if she does, she must never dream of work again. I presume you ladies have been pupils of hers?"
"Pupils!" said Alice; "no, indeed; was she a governess?"
"We do not even know this poor lady's name," said Barbara; "we saw the accident, and Mrs. Schröder had her brought here at once."
"Mrs. Schröder is an angel of mercy," said Mr. Slade, with an old-fashioned bow. "This poor girl lying downstairs is Miss Mellon, a riding-mistress; a most correct and proper person, I've always heard, and one who had a great deal to do in breaking and training horses. I've often seen her in the Park; she rode splendidly; and I cannot conceive how this accident occurred."
"Do you think her senses will return--that she will be able to express any wishes--before--"
"I should think so," said Mr. Slade, not permitting Barbara to finish the sentence; "I think she will probably recover from the concussion, and then she will be sensible. It is the fracture I fear. I'll send a man to her place in Down Street, to let them know where she is, and I'll look round again this evening."
SO there Kate Mellon lay helpless, senseless, motionless, watched over unconsciously by two women, one of whom she hated deeply, and by the other of whom she was held in the greatest detestation. There she lay through the dreary afternoon, through the long evening,--when Mr. Slade came again bringing with him one of the hospital-nurses,--and through the dead solemn night. Very early the next morning, between seven and eight, Barbara, on her way from her bedroom to the library, was surprised to see Mr. Slade enter the hall, and expressed her surprise.
"Well, it is early," said the kind-hearted surgeon; "but, my dear Mrs. Churchill, I've taken a great interest in this poor girl; and as I always take a constitutional round the Park before breakfast, I thought I'd just run across and see her.--Well, nurse, what news? None, eh? Just raise that curtain the least bit--that'll do. Hm! she'll get rid of the concussion; but--hm! well, well, not our will, but Thine; hm, hm! Any body come after her yesterday?"
"An old bailiff or stud-groom," said Barbara, "came down in the evening, and entreated to be allowed to see his Mistress. I told him that was impossible, and explained the state of things to him myself. Poor fellow, he was dreadfully overcome, the tears rolled down his cheeks, and he bemoaned his mistress's fate most bitterly."
"Hm! right not to let him see her then; could have done no good. But she'll probably come to her senses during the day, and then, if she asks to see any body--well, send for them. The refusal might irritate her, and--and it can make very little difference."