Then Maria felt that some one was beside her, and she looked up and saw a young man with a grave, fair face, who bent over the bed without so much as speaking.
‘It is a severe stroke of apoplexy,’ he said, standing upright again and looking at her. ‘You must send for ice at once.’
‘There is an ice-box in the house,’ said the valet, who had entered the room with the young doctor, and he went away quickly to procure what was needed.
‘Will he be conscious again?’ Maria asked in a low voice.
‘Perhaps, but probably not for two or three days.’
‘Can I be of any use? Do you need me here? We have telephoned for our doctor.’
The young man looked at her in some surprise.
‘No,’ he said, ‘I will do what can be done, if you prefer to leave the room.’
‘I am afraid my little boy is lost in the streets,’ Maria answered. ‘I am in great anxiety. I must go out and find him.’
The young man understood the look in her face now.