They lifted him, hardly believing Aleck that he was still alive, and carrying him in, laid him on the sofa to which Nelly pointed.
“Is he alive, Aleck?”
“Yes, his pulse is beating.”
“Then a doctor, and the nearest one. Remember what a friend he was to papa!”
“Not so much the nearest one, as the best one,” thought Aleck as he sped away. “I’ll have Dr. Thorndyke here, if he can be found, and I think it’s just the time Jet is most likely to be standing at the door.”
Yes, there was Jet, the reins thrown over his back, and still panting after his dash into town from a visit a mile outside; the doctor had just closed the front-door behind him, and it took but a moment for Aleck to find him and tell his errand.
For the first time in his life there was a moment when the doctor didn’t care a fig about what was wanted, compared to some other considerations. He should see Nelly Halliday in her own house at last, after all this time that Thorndyke had been having it all to himself, without the slightest appreciation of what it was!
But only an instant; at the next he and Aleck were in the chaise, and one more brought them to where the shattered carriage still lay before the door.
“Isn’t that enough to bring a dead man to life!” thought the doctor as he stepped into the room. There was the same face he had seen two years ago smiling from the conservatory-window at Thorndyke, the same soft eyes, the same rippling sunlight in her hair, just as he had remembered them all this while, only this time bending over the still motionless form of her fathers friend, and watching anxiously for some sign of returning consciousness.