He came forward and stood beside them, looking down at his young kinsman.
“You are better, Eustace?” he said kindly; and to Bride’s surprise the answer came quite audibly, though only in a very faint whisper—
“Bride is giving me new life.”
“That is well, very well. Do not talk. Keep quiet, and Bride will take care of you;” and at that moment the doctor came back, and looked at his patient with an emphatic nod of approval.
“Very good, very good, couldn’t be better. Lady Bride, if you will only go on as successfully as you have begun, we shall have him round the corner by the time the day is over. A magnificent constitution—truly a magnificent one! Could not have believed it! Gave very little signs of life four hours ago—just a flicker; but I was afraid to hope too much, and now—why, there’s quite a pulse, and no fever. Wonderful! wonderful!”
Eustace was growing drowsy by this time—a very favourable symptom in the doctor’s sight. The murmur of voices about him induced a state of dreamy torpor. His eyes closed, and he dropped off into a light dose, as people do who are very weak, but have no fever or pain. Bride looked up with a smile at her father.
“He will be better if he sleeps,” she said. “Will you not sit down, papa? you look so tired.”
The doctor gave a shrewd glance at the Duke’s face, and seconded his daughter’s recommendation. They drew a little away from the bed, and Bride asked softly—
“What about Saul?”
The doctor shook his head.