“How young! how pretty!” she said in surprise, gazing down at the unconscious face with its broad white brow, cheeks now slightly flushed with fever, sweet mouth, and large, lustrous eyes, which suddenly opened wide upon her, then closed again, while a deep moan escaped the lips and the head moved restlessly from side to side.
“She’s very ill, poor dear!” said the old lady. “Ada, my child, don’t come near lest her disease should be contagious. We ought to have the doctor here as soon as possible, Joseph.”
“I’ll go for him,” said Mike, starting for the door.
“Hark!” cried Ada, “there’s a horse galloping up the drive. Who can it be coming at this hour on such a night?”
Mrs. Heywood rose to her feet, and they all stood for a moment intently listening; then, at a “Hallo!” from a familiar voice,
“Why, it’s the doctor himself!” they exclaimed simultaneously, the old gentleman and Ada running out to the hall to greet him.
He had already alighted from his horse, and was coming in.
“All well?” he asked almost breathlessly, not even pausing to say good-evening.
“Yes—no!” returned Mr. Heywood. “This way as quick as you can, doctor; we’ve a poor creature here who is very sick indeed.”
“Ah, that explains it,” remarked the physician, as if thinking aloud, while hastily following his host.