"Mrs. Lynne,"—Beatrix turned pleadingly to that lady—"will you not do something for this gentleman? He is suffering greatly. His name is Kenyon—Mr. Keith Kenyon."
"Keith Kenyon!" Mrs. Lynne started to her feet, pale with surprise. "Why, so it is!" she cried, stooping to peer into the face of the half-unconscious man. "Keith! Keith! look up. Thank Heaven you are safe with us! Serena, go and light a fire in the spare chamber for your cousin Keith."
Beatrix started in surprise. During all the years passed under that roof she had never before heard of the existence of such a person.
"Your cousin?" she repeated, in a bewildered way, as Serena left the room, in obedience to her mother's directions.
Mrs. Lynne's pale eyes flashed.
"To be sure. At least, he is not exactly a cousin, only by adoption; which is all the better for Serena, as I do not approve of the marriage of cousins."
A strange pang shot through Beatrix Dane's girlish heart—a pang which was to her quite unaccountable. Why should she care whom Keith Kenyon married? Surely, it was nothing to her. Poor little Beatrix! Although she did not dream the truth, the spell of love was being woven about her young heart.
"Out flew the web, and floated wide,
The mirror cracked from side to side;
'The curse is come upon me!' cried
The Lady of Shalott."
An hour later the young man was placed in bed in the warm "spare chamber." Doctor Lynne having examined his injuries, found them not as serious as had been feared; and once attended to, Keith slept the sleep of exhaustion.