Meadows, streams, woods flashed into view and out again as the express flew eastwards. London was left farther and farther behind, and Dora with it. Jim's heart telegraphed her a farewell. To-morrow she was to be married--to-morrow! So good-bye, little Dora--good-bye! ...
"THREEWAYS! THREEWAYS!"
Here he was at last! A tall footman was on the platform. Evidently he had received a description of Jim, for he advanced directly the latter stepped out of the train, and in another half-minute Jim was rolling along a road very dear and familiar to his eyes.
It was four miles to Lord Lingfield's residence--and the earl's fine bays made a mouthful of the journey.
"Sir Savile wishes to see you at once, sir," said the butler, as Jim entered the lofty hall of the great house.
Jim followed the servant into the library. Sir Savile was leaning back in a big easy-chair, and Jim noted with some concern that the specialist's right arm was in a sling. By his side stood Jim's grandfather. The third doctor was in the sick-room.
Sir Savile, without rising, put out his left hand.
"My dear Mortimer, this is splendid of you! You have not lost a moment!"
They shook hands. Jim turned to his grandfather. "How do you do, sir?" he said, flushing a little.
Dr Mortimer bent his head slightly, but did not speak.