“No, no; I hope not. Another moment it would have been too late, but I think we were in time.”
Hadria had administered the brandy, and stood watching breathlessly, for signs of revival. She gave one questioning glance at Algitha. Her trust in the nurse was gone. Algitha signed hope. The patient’s breathing was easier.
“I wonder if we ought to give a little more?” Hadria whispered.
“Wait a minute. Ah! don’t speak to her, father; she needs all her strength.”
The ticking of the clock could be heard, in the dim light.
Algitha was holding her mother’s wrist. “Stronger,” she said. Hadria drew a deep sigh. “We must give food presently. No more brandy.”
“She’s all right again, all right again!” cried Mr. Fullerton, eagerly.
The nurse went to prepare the extract which the doctor had ordered for the patient, when quickly-digested nourishment was required. It gave immediate strength. The brandy had stimulated the sinking organs to a saving effort; the food sustained the system at the level thus achieved. The perilous moment was over.
“Thank heaven!” cried Algitha, when the patient’s safety was assured, and she sank back on the pillow, with a look of relief on her worn face.
“If it had not been for you, Hadria——. What’s the matter? Are you ill?”