A nurse sat, silent and watchful, her eyes upon the pillow.
She rose, as Diana entered, and came forward quickly.
"I am left in charge, Mrs. Rivers," she whispered. "I was to call you at once when I saw the change. The doctors have been gone ten minutes. Sir Deryck expects to return in an hour. He is fetching an antitoxin which he proposes trying, if the patient lives until his return. Dr. Walters thinks it useless to attempt anything further. No more strychnine is to be used."
"Thank you," said Diana, gently. "Now you can go into the ward, nurse. I will take charge here. If I want help, I will call. Close the door softly behind you. I wish to be alone."
She stood quite still, while the nurse, after a moment's hesitation, left the room.
Then she came round to the right side of the bed, knelt down, and drew David into her arms, pillowing his head against her breast. She held him close, resting her cheek upon his tumbled hair, and waited.
At length David sighed, and stirred feebly. Then he opened his eyes.
"Where—am I?" he asked, in a bewildered voice.
"In your wife's arms," said Diana, slowly and clearly.
"In—my wife's—arms?" The weak voice, incredulous in its amazed wonder, tore her heart; but she answered, unfaltering: