To his excited imagination, the few minutes that elapsed between leaving the message at the doctor's door and his arrival seemed hours, and then at last his ring was heard, and a minute after, he stood looking at Dodie, who still lay in nurse's arms.
Geoff did not move his eyes from his face, till Nurse suddenly looking up and becoming conscious of the three little listeners who stood around, ordered them all peremptorily out of the room. Geoffrey, however, waylaid the Doctor as he left.
"Dr. Booth," he said, standing with his hands thrust deeply in his pockets, and looking earnestly up into the Doctor's face as he put on his coat in the hall, "will Dodie be well by the time Father comes home?"
The Doctor shook his head somewhat ominously.
"That I can't tell you, my boy," he answered, as he buttoned up his coat and smoothed his collar, "with care I hope your little sister will get well before very long—but it will require care—and I can't say exactly when she will be herself again."
"Is she going to be very ill?" asked Geoff.
The doctor turned away somewhat hurriedly from the anxious face looking up into his, and fidgeted a little nervously with his hat before putting it on. Then clearing his throat, he looked round again and patted the boy on the head saying, kindly:
"Care and physic do wonderful things, my boy—for all I know, your little sister will be having a game of snowballing with you this day week."
"I do hope she'll be well by the time Father comes," said Geoff with a sigh.
"Oh well—who knows!" said Dr. Booth jovially—and ramming his hat on his head, he nodded to Geoff, and in a minute more was driving away from the house, but not away from the remembrance of those anxious eyes that had been raised so beseechingly to him,—which remembrance made him shake his head, murmuring "poor little lad."