“And is that all the authority you have, miss?”
“No,” said I boldly; “more than that—Mr. Rayner’s!”
The women both started, and Sarah took up the bed and without a word went out of the room. I turned to Mrs. Rayner.
“Don’t be alarmed about Haidee,” I said gently. “I’ll take great care of her. And, if you will just give your consent, I will send for a doctor on my own responsibility.”
The poor thing stooped and kissed one of the hands I held round her child.
“Heaven bless you, Miss Christie!” she murmured; and, turning away, she sank down upon the empty space where the bed had been, and burst into a flood of tears.
She would not listen to the few incoherent words I said to comfort her; and I was obliged to leave the room with tears in my eyes, and carry my little patient upstairs. I could not go very fast, for the burden was rather heavy for a small woman like me; and by the time I got upstairs the bed was ready and Sarah had disappeared.
And now how to get a doctor? For I was seriously alarmed about the child. To expect any more help from Sarah was out of the question. I went down to the nursery, called Jane, who was just going to bed, and asked her where Sam slept.
“In the village,” said she.
Nobody slept at the stables now that Mr. Rayner was away, except the old gardener, who would certainly never reach Beaconsburgh before daybreak if I sent him out at nine o’clock at night. Jane was too young to be sent all that way alone at night, the cook too old. There was only one thing to be done; I must go myself.