“I'm coming down,” said the young lady.
“Don't move!”
With a great effort Mr. Lavender arranged his costume, and closed his eyes. “How many lie like this, staring at the blue heavens!” he thought.
“Where has it got you?” said a voice; and he saw the young lady bending over him.
“'In the dorsal region, I think,” said Mr. Lavender. “But I suffer more from the thought that I—that you—”
“That's all right,” said the young lady; “I'm a V.A.D. It WAS a bump! Let's see if you can——” and taking his hands she raised him to a sitting posture. “Does it work?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Lavender rather faintly.
“Try and stand,” said the young lady, pulling.
Mr. Lavender tried, and stood; but no, sooner was he on his feet than she turned her face away. Great tears rolled down her cheeks; and she writhed and shook all over.
“Don't!” cried Mr. Lavender, much concerned. “I beg you not to cry. It's nothing, I assure you—nothing!” The young lady with an effort controlled her emotion, and turned her large grey eyes on him.