"What!" exclaimed Tredennis. "And she alone, and probably without any physician she relies on!"
"Some one must go to her," said Arbuthnot, "and the professor must know nothing of it. If we knew of any woman friend of hers we might appeal to her; but everybody is out of town."
He paused a second, his eyes fixed on Tredennis's changing face.
"If you will remain with the professor," he said, "I will go myself, and take Doctor Wentworth with me."
"You!" said Tredennis.
"I shall be better than nothing," replied Arbuthnot, quietly. "I can do what I am told to do, and she mustn't be left alone. If her mother had been alive, she would have gone; if her father had been well, he would have gone; if her husband had been here"—
"But he is not here," said Tredennis, with a bitterness not strictly just. "Heaven only knows where he is."
"It would be rather hazardous to trust to a telegram reaching him at Merrittsville," said Arbuthnot. "We are not going to leave her alone even until we have tried Merrittsville. What must be done must be done now. I will go and see Doctor Wentworth at once, and we can leave in an hour if I find him. You can tell the professor I was called away."
He made a step toward the door, and as he did so Tredennis turned suddenly.
"Wait a moment," he said.