Dr. Cary’s providential appearance on the spot where Middleton lay had undoubtedly saved Middleton’s life; and although at first the wound appeared very desperate, his splendid constitution stood him in good stead, and in a very short time he began to rally. “It is in such instances as this,” said Dr. Cary, “that a man’s habits tell. Nature conducts her campaign with less than half her forces in action; it is when an accident comes that the reserves tell.”
One of the first things done, after it was known whether Middleton would survive the immediate shock, was to telegraph to Miss Rockfield.
The sudden shock appeared to have driven away all the cloud of misunderstanding that had so long settled between Jacquelin and Blair; and although Jacquelin felt that all was over between them, his self-abnegation brought him a content to which he had long been a stranger. Every moment that he could spare he was at Blair’s service; but she was most of the time at Middleton’s bedside, with Ruth, and all Jacquelin could do was to show by his silent sympathy how deeply he felt for her.
One afternoon she came and asked him to go to the station for Miss Rockfield.
“Who is Miss Rockfield?” asked Jacquelin. “I know she is related to Middleton; but who is she?”
“She is Captain Middleton’s fiancée,” said Blair, quietly.
“What!” Jacquelin turned hot and cold by turns. “Blair!”
Blair’s eyes were dancing, and her mouth was trembling with the effort to suppress the sign of her triumph.
Jacquelin positively staggered. He hitched up Middleton’s horse and went for Miss Rockfield; but how he reached the station and what happened that evening he always vowed he could never remember. When Miss Rockfield arrived, Middleton was already out of danger. The strain, however, had told heavily on Dr. Cary. Still he refused to rest.
A night or two later, the Doctor had just come home from a round of visits. He had come by the court-house, and had paid Steve a visit. Every effort had failed to put off Steve’s trial. Leech had brought the judge, and they were together at Still’s. The Doctor was much depressed. He would write to Senator Rockfield, and see if he could not make one more attempt. He looked so fagged and worn that Mrs. Cary and Blair urged him to put off the letter. But he said it must be done at once. The day for the trial was approaching, and every hour was precious now. So he wrote the letter. Then he lay down on a lounge.