Lucy heaved a sigh, but she held her peace, and busily wafted the cool air to her brother’s forehead.
Mrs Alleyne returned, to kneel down a short distance away, in obedience to a whisper from the doctor; and then an hour passed, and there was no change, while hope seemed to be slowly departing from poor Lucy’s eyes.
Suddenly a horse’s feet were heard coming at a gallop, and a minute or two later there was a tap at the door.
“I came on at once,” said Sir John, entering on tiptoe. “My brother is having the ice well opened, and he will be over directly with one of the men. Now, Mr Oldroyd, what can I do? I have the cob outside. Shall I—don’t be offended, you might like help—shall I gallop over and get Doctor Blunt.”
“It is not necessary,” said Oldroyd thoughtfully, “but it would be more satisfactory to all parties. I should be glad if you could go, Sir John.”
“Yes; exactly. How is he?”
“There’s no change, and not likely to be for some time,” replied Oldroyd, quietly.
Sir John looked pityingly at Alleyne, turned to Mrs Alleyne, took her hand and pressed it gently. Then, bending over Lucy, he took her hand in his.
“Keep a good heart, my dear,” he whispered. “He’ll be better soon;” and going out on tiptoe, it hardly seemed a minute before the regular beat of his horse’s hoofs could be heard dying away in the distance.
A few minutes later the rumble of wheels was heard, and directly after Eliza came to the door with a pail of ice.