"We must pull him through, doctor. Margaret," continued her husband, his face was white as death, "Dr. Rumsey says that the child is in danger."
"Yes," answered Margaret. She was as quiet in her manner as he was excited and troubled. She laid her hand now with great tenderness on his arm. The touch was meant to soothe him, and to assure him of her sympathy. Then she turned her eyes to fix them on the doctor.
"I know you will do what you can," she said. There was suppressed passion in her words.
"Rest assured I will," he answered.
"Of course," cried Awdrey. "Listen to me, Dr. Rumsey, not a stone must be left unturned to pull the child through. You know what his life means to us—to his mother and me. We cannot possibly spare him—he must be saved. Had we not better get other advice immediately?"
"It is not necessary, but you must please yourselves," answered Rumsey. "I am not a specialist as regards lung affections, although this case is perfectly straightforward. If you wish to have a specialist I shall be very glad to consult with Edward Cowley."
"What is his address? I'll go for him at once," said Awdrey.
Dr. Rumsey sat down, wrote a short note and gave it to Awdrey, who hurried off with it.
Dr. Rumsey looked at Mrs. Awdrey after her husband had left the room.
"It is marvellous," he said, "what a change for the better this illness has made in your husband's condition."