“Yes, yes!” cried the lady, springing out and turning to snatch at the doctor’s wrist and hurry him up the steps.
Once more the strange thrill ran through Fred Chester’s nerves and his heart throbbed heavily. Then they were inside a handsome entry, and he saw statuary, pictures, a cluster of electric lights, in rapid sequence, as he hurried over soft carpets to the back of the house, and into a handsome dining-room in which some eight or nine ladies and gentlemen in evening dress were clustered about a couch drawn up near a table covered with glass and plate, flowers, fruit, and the signs of the interrupted dessert, seen by a bouquet of soft incandescent lights.
The sight of the figure on the couch was enough, and Chester was fully himself as his companion ran to the sufferer, threw herself on her knees, and kissed the white face there.
“Be my own brave boy,” she whispered hoarsely. “The doctor is here.”
“Be kind enough to leave the room, all but two of you gentlemen,” said Chester, sternly.
“No; I shall stay,” cried the lady, firmly, as she threw off the thick mantilla and fur-lined cloak, to stand there bare-armed and palpitating. “I will not leave you, Rob,” she cooed over the wounded man. “Doctor, I will be nurse.”
The doctor bowed his head, and as all left the room but two of the gentlemen, he hurriedly made his examination, and probed in vain for the bullet, which had passed in under the left shoulder-blade, inflicting a dangerous wound, against which, at intervals, the lady pressed her handkerchief.
The patient bore all with remarkable fortitude, and in the moments of his greatest agony set his teeth and held on by his nurse’s hand, while she bent down from time to time from watching every movement of the doctor, and pressed her trembling lips to the sufferer’s hand.
At last the examination was over, and the wounded man lay very white and still; while Chester made use of a finger-glass and napkin to remove the ugly marks from the white hands.
“Drink this, doctor,” whispered one of the gentlemen who had waited upon him, no servant having been seen.