Miss Knowlton grew a little paler and more important.
"Well, he can't be told now," she said. "You get Dr. Salter, quickly, will you?"
Stephen did not realize that daylight had not yet fully come when Dr. Salter appeared in his room. It seemed a long, long time since he had come home—was it a day and night or two days and nights or four? He didn't think it queer that there was another man with Salter—nothing seemed queer or of any moment whatsoever, not even a strange question put to him. They did not mean to let Stephen die.
"Lanfair, can you understand me?"
"Oh, yes!" Stephen laughed.
"Do you trust Mayne and me to use our best judgment for you?"
"About what?" asked Stephen. In a moment of full consciousness he recognized Mayne, who bore upon his expansive face the record of more than one shock. If clearness of mind had lasted for another instant, Stephen might have suspected the cause of Mayne's disturbance of mind. But he grew confused and asked in a jovial and impertinent tone, "What's the matter with you, old boy?"
"About your welfare," said Mayne earnestly.
"Oh, bosh!" cried Stephen, and turned on his side. There was but one thing he desired, peace to pursue a search. What was it his father had said? He presently began to mix his English and Latin. He knew that that which he sought was an ineffable happiness, but he could not quite grasp it.