“Call Mrs. French,” he says, chafing the lifeless hands. “Bring restoratives—quick!”
And he lifts her tenderly, and carries her to a divan.
Then for a time all is confusion. There is talking, laughing, crying; Mrs. French is here, and Millie, and presently every other servant of the household.
For a moment, Winnie seems about to drop her clinging burden. Then suddenly her face lights up; she clasps Daisy closer, and drawing near, she watches those who minister to the unconscious one.
Leslie revives slowly and looks about her, making a weak effort to rise.
“Be quiet,” says the stranger in the priestly garments, who has “kept his head” while all the others seem dazed; “be quiet, madam. Let me explain to your friends.”
As he speaks, Alan stoops over Winnie, and kisses the little one tenderly, but he does not offer to take her from Winnie’s clasp. He turns instead and bends over Leslie.
“Obey him, Leslie,” he says softly. “We will tell you how glad we are by and by.”
She looks wonderingly into his face, then closes her eyes wearily.
“He can tell you,” she whispers; “I—I cannot.”