Mr Palliser was conscious that the startled animal first reared, then bolted--or rather, tried to. Fortunately her master sat behind her in the shape of her mistress. Not only was she brought to a standstill, but, in less than half a minute, Dr Constance Hughes had descended from the dog-cart, and was kneeling at Mr Palliser's side.
Her first remark was scarcely sympathetic.
"You ought to have rung your bell," she said.
"I hadn't a bell to ring," he retorted.
"Then you never ought to come out without one, as you're very well aware. What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
He proved that there was nothing wrong by quietly fainting in the middle of the road.
"What's up?" was the first remark which he made when he returned to consciousness. "What's happened? Where am I? What on earth--"
He stopped, to groan with pain, and to recognise the futility of an attempt to sit upright. He lay still, looking about him with wide-open eyes. He was in bed--not his own, but someone else's. And in someone else's room; one, moreover, which was strange to him. On one side stood Dr Constance Hughes; behind her was that very general practitioner and ancient rival--Joseph Harford. It was the lady who replied.
"As to where you are, you're in my house. And you've come back to your senses just in time to let us know if you would like your leg cut off."