Little Barrington, the druggist, came out of his shop, and helped to place Richard on Mrs. Gass's sofa. They managed to get off his coat. The left arm was injured, as well as the temple. Barrington staunched the blood trickling from the latter; but preferred not to meddle with the arm. "He had better be kept quite quiet, until the surgeon comes," said the druggist to Mrs. Gass.
Mrs. Gass cleared the room. A dozen excited messengers had run to the Ham for Mr. Seeley or Dr. Rane, or both if they should be found at home. She stood at the front-door, watching and waiting.
Richard North, weak and faint, lay with his eyes closed. Opening them in the quiet room, he saw Mary Dallory kneeling by the sofa, pale and sad.
"Don't be alarmed," he whispered. "It might have been worse."
"I would have given my life to save yours, Richard," she impetuously exclaimed in the sorrow and terror of the moment.
His right hand went out a little and met hers.
"Richard, I wish I might stay and nurse you. You have no sister. Matilda is useless in a sick-room."
Richard North nervously pressed her fingers. "Don't try me too much, Mary. I care for you already more than is good for my peace. Don't tempt me."
"And if I were to tempt you? Though I don't quite know what you mean," she rejoined softly and nervously. "What then?"
"I might say what I ought not to say."