"You cannot do it, child." But the answer was given in the exhaustion of pain, and the young man lay back with closed eyes. Rotha did not hold herself forbidden. She took the knife, and carefully, tenderly, and very skilfully, she managed to free the suffering foot. It took time, but not more, nor so much, as would have been needed to send for a doctor.
"Thank you!—that is great relief. Now the salt and water, Rotha."
With a beating heart, beating with joy, Rotha flew to get what was wanted; flew only outside the door though, for in the room her motions had no precipitation whatever. She came staidly and steadily, and noiselessly. It was necessary to cut open also the stocking, to get that off, but this was an easier matter; and then Rotha's fingers applied the cold salt and water, bathing softly and patiently, with fingers that almost trembled, they were so glad to be employed. For a long time this went on.
"Rotha—"
"Yes, Mr. Digby," said the girl eagerly.
"What o'clock is it?"
"Seven, just."
"You have had no tea."
"Nor you, either. Will you have some now, Mr. Digby?"
"You will. The foot is a great deal easier now, Rotha. Lay a wet cloth over the ankle and let it alone for a while; and have some tea, dear."