"Yes, I have," answered Mr. Bragg, dismayed in his turn by her evident distress. "I couldn't do less. You might have been dying for anything I knew. You don't know how bad you looked!"
"But I don't want a doctor. I'm quite well. I only want to go on. I want to go on to Granny."
And May's head fell back on the pillow, while a tear forced its way beneath the closed eyelids.
"You came by the slow down, didn't you? Ah, well, there's no passenger train going on that way before eleven-five to-night," observed the elderly female.
At this intelligence the tears poured down May's cheeks, and she turned away her head on the cushion.
"Don't cry! Don't fret!" exclaimed Mr. Bragg. "You shall be in Oldchester within an hour if the medical man says you're able to travel. I'll speak to the station-master at once. Only we must hear what the doctor says, mustn't we? I dursn't run a risk, now durst I? You see that yourself. You're what you might call laid on my conscience to take care of. Good Lord, will this fool of a fellow never come back? I told him to drive as fast as he could pelt."
May was crying now less from vexation than from exhaustion.
"I'm not ill, indeed," she murmured, trying to check her tears.
"But, my dear young lady, people don't faint dead away like that, and look so white and ghastly, without there's something the matter. It wasn't the news I told you upset you like that, surely?"
"No; of course not. I think it was because I—I had had no dinner."