"The actress? Miss Clare? Third floor, but I don't know the number."
Olive turned to see Roger coming in with a tall, kindly faced man, who hurried up stairs, while Roger said to her:
"It is the doctor, we will follow him;" and together they went up, through the dim halls, and climbing the steep stairs, until they saw him enter a door, around which several curious persons stood, and then Roger paused, saying with decision:
"You risk her life if you go in now, when she is in such a condition; the shock might bring on another hemorrhage."
"I will wait," said Olive, beginning to feel the stern necessity of rigid self-control. "But cannot you go in, and ask the doctor how she is, and ask him how long before I can see her?"
"I will try, wait here;" and Olive waited, while he went to the door, and tapped. She saw that he was refused admittance; but that in a few moments the doctor came out, and talked with him, after which they walked down to where she stood.
"Dr. Pierce, Olive; and I have told him a few of the sad facts of the case," was Roger's hurried introduction and explanation.
"And can I see her?" asked Olive, with trembling eagerness.
"I think not, but I am sorry," was the kindly answer. "The hemorrhage was not very severe, but she is perfectly prostrated with overwork and excitement, so that I would dread the effect of any shock. Besides I have given her an opiate, from which she may not wake for hours, if it has the desired effect."
"But may I not see her when she gets to sleep?" pleaded Olive, tremulously. "I will be very quiet indeed."