“I tell you it’s inhuman, Helen, to let her lie there, to be carried off to some hospital by the police,” cried the old woman, in shrill, almost angry tones.
“But, aunt, the house is full now; and if she is badly injured it will not do to move her from here after she has been once attended to.”
“I don’t care if there are five hundred in the house; that girl shall not be left there to be carried off by the police, I tell you. James, go bring her in this instant. Get some one to help you, and take her up to my bedroom.”
“But, aunt——”
“Hold your tongue, Helen. You were always hard-hearted as adamant. Go along, I say!” And she flourished her cane about the grave butler’s ears in a way to make him move more quickly to execute her orders than was his wont.
He beckoned to two under-servants, and together they proceeded to the overturned carriage, where Brownie could be seen lying prone against the window, her white face upturned and motionless.
They extricated her, and bore her into an upper room, where, in the presence of the brusque and energetic old woman, she was kindly ministered unto, while awaiting the arrival of the family physician.
For three days she continued very ill, being feverish and somewhat delirious, but after that she began to mend rapidly, and at the end of a week she was able to sit up.
Evidently she could not have fallen into better hands, for she was surrounded by every luxury imaginable, and upon questioning the servant who attended her, she was told that she was in the house of Lady Randal.
She wondered why her ladyship did not come in to see her, and then sighed to think that she was only a poor, friendless waif, who had been picked out of the streets and ministered unto for charity’s sake.