“Dally!” he cried wonderingly, as the girl writhed and fought and moaned in his arms. The doctor glanced at the hysterical girl. “Light here,” he said sternly; and as Mary wonderingly bore forward the lamp, the old man lifted the tea-cup, upon which his eyes had instantly lit, smelled, and then cautiously tasted it. He shook his head. “Is she poisoned?” gasped Salis. “No,” said the old doctor promptly. “The lamp a little nearer, please.”
Mary held it towards him, and the old man bent down over Dally and made a rapid examination; no easy task, for she was throwing herself about wildly, and one hand struck the lamp shade and tore it away.
“That will do,” said the doctor in stern, hard tones. “Here: have you another servant? Get her to bed at once.”
As he spoke he seized Dally’s wrist, and gave it a jerk.
“Get up!” he said harshly.
“What a shame!” murmured Mrs Milt indignantly.
“Of this girl to make such a disturbance?” said the old doctor, who had caught her words. “Yes, disgraceful, when there is so much trouble. That’s right; get up. Not your room, I suppose?”
To the surprise of all, Dally had risen, and stood with her hands clenched, looking wildly from one to the other.
“Can you walk to your room, Dally?” said Mary.
The girl nodded sharply, then looked around wildly, and the full force of her trouble coming back, she burst into a passion of tears.