To Dinah’s great delight their patient soon grew calmer, and the low mutterings and tossing of the head from side to side partially subsided.
“Well, sir,” said the Major that evening, after patiently waiting for the Doctor to give him some report, “can you tell us that we may hope?”
“I will not say that,” replied the Doctor. “Give me another twenty-four hours. A fever like this is slow. I must own that he is in a very critical condition; but do not tell your daughter that.”
The Major groaned.
“If he dies it will kill her.”
“He shall not die if medical knowledge can save him,” said the Doctor firmly.
“And you will stay, sir?”
“Stay? Great heavens, man, his father and I were school-fellows. His mother was like a dear sister to me; and as for this boy, I could not have thought more of him if he had been my own son. Stay? I sent a message back from the station to say that the date of my return was indefinite, and to place an old friend in charge of my practice. I presume that you will find me an easy-chair and a crust of bread while I am here, and I shall not go till I feel that I can leave him safely to his nurse, or it has pleased God to take him into His rest.”
The Major’s breast heaved, and he held out his hand, which was firmly grasped.
“God bless you for those words,” he said, with emotion. “We must save him for her sake.”