Dr. Barrow remained at the Manor House most of the night. It was clear from his manner, as well as from the words he let fall, that he regarded Dorothy's case as serious. Sir John refused to go to bed.
"I shall not sleep in any case," he said. "And I prefer to remain downstairs, so that I can hear the latest news."
Lord Probus remained with him till after midnight, though very few words passed between them. Now and then they looked at each other in a dumb, despairing fashion, but neither had the courage to talk about what was uppermost in their thoughts.
Just as the daylight was struggling into the room, the doctor came in silently, and dropped with a little sigh into an easy-chair.
"Well?" Sir John questioned, looking at him with stony eyes.
"She is a little easier for the moment," was the quiet, unemotional answer.
"You think she will pull through?"
"I hope so, but I shall be able to speak with more confidence later."
"The wound in her head is a bad one?"
The doctor smiled. "If that were all, we would soon have her on her feet again."