"None better."
"Then, do you know his address?"
Brierly got up and began to walk about, his eyes beginning to glow with the excitement so long suppressed. "Because we can't get him here too soon."
"I agree with you. And now one thing more. To give him every advantage he should not be known, and the inquest should not begin until he is here."
"Can that be managed?"
"I think so."
Brierly was now nervously eager. He seemed to have shaken off the stupor which at first had seemed to seize upon and hold him, and his questions and suggestions came thick and fast. It ended, of course, in his putting himself into the doctor's hands, and accepting his plans and suggestions entirely. And very soon, Dr. Barnes, having given his factotum distinct instructions as regarded visitors, and inquiries, had set off, his medicine case carried ostentatiously in his hand, not for the telegraph office, but for the cottage, close by, where Hilda Grant found a home.
It was a small, neatly-kept cottage, and Mrs. Marcy, a gentle, kindly widow, and the young teacher were its only occupants.
The widow met him at the door, her face anxious, her voice the merest whisper.
"Doctor, tell me; do you think she will really be ill?"