He had touched the right chord, and, after a momentary and half-convulsive sob, she rose quietly, and said, "Tell me what to do—tell me the worst."
"I have brought him with me, and I have a physician also. I found him on a steamer, by accident. They were about to send him to a hospital, but I was sure you would want him brought home."
"Oh, yes—God bless you—bring him, bring him quick."
"Courage. Good nursing will prevent the worst."
Roger hastened back to the patient, stopping on the way only long enough to ask Mrs. Wheaton to go to Mrs. Jocelyn's room instantly, and then, with the physician's aid, he carried the unconscious man to his room, and laid him on his bed.
"Oh, Martin! Martin!" moaned the wife, "how changed, how changed!
Oh, God! he's dying."
"I hope not, madam," said the physician; "at any rate we must all keep our self-possession and do our best. While there is life there is hope."
With dilated eyes, and almost fierce repression of all aid from other hands, she took the clothing from the limp and wasted form.
"He IS dying," she moaned; "see how unnatural his eyes are; the pupils are almost gone. Oh, God! why did I let him go from me when he was so ill!"
"Would you not like Belle and Miss Mildred summoned at once?" Roger asked.