“And Major Day’s in the dining-room, please, ma’am,” whispered the girl, in a broken voice; “and is master better, and can he do anything?”
“Go and speak to him, Lucy. Here, your handkerchief first. That’s right!” said Oldroyd sharply. “Now, the smallest pieces of the ice. That’s right. Go and say—No change. Perhaps he’ll sit down and wait.”
As he spoke, with Mrs Alleyne’s help, he was busily arranging the smaller fragments from the pail of ice in a couple of handkerchiefs, and applying them to his patient’s head.
“There,” he said, “that’s better than all our fanning. Now, I hope to see some difference.”
The change was long in coming, Alleyne remaining perfectly insensible for hour after hour. Towards evening the principal physician of the neighbourhood arrived, and was for some time with the sick man, returning afterwards to where Mrs Alleyne, Lucy, Sir John, and the major were, waiting impatiently for news.
He said he was not surprised at the seizure, upon learning the history of the case from his friend, Mr Oldroyd, upon whose treatment he could make no change whatever.
“Then you think the worst!” cried Mrs Alleyne piteously.
“Pardon me, my dear madam; not at all. There are cases that time alone can decide. The ailment has been growing for many months. Your son must have had premonitory warnings, attacks of faintness, and the like; for he had provided himself with a strong preparation of ammonia; but he has not been leading a life that would improve the general state of his health. Over-study and general mental anxiety have, no doubt, been the causes of this attack; and as it has taken months to reach this culmination, it will take a long time to bring him back to health.”
“Then you think there is no danger?” said Sir John eagerly.
“I think there is great danger, Sir John; but I hope that we shall be able to successfully ward it off.”