"Please God!" I murmured brokenly.
"Of course," he continued, "anything may happen yet. But the way in
which she has been cared for by my good friend here----"
"No, no," said Farquharson. "Give the credit to those that deserve it. I
just afforded ordinary professional assistance. It was your wife and her
sister, Mr Inglethwaite, that pulled the child through. She has had
tight hold of a hand of one of them ever since ten o'clock last night."
"Yes," said Sir James; "I think it will be found that their nursing has
just made the difference. You had better give him something,
Farquharson."
In truth I needed something, though up to this point I had not realised
the fact. Farquharson gave me a draught out of a little glass, which
sent a steadying glow all through me, and presently I was able to shake
hands, dumbly and mechanically, with the great surgeon, who, I found,
was bidding me good-bye; for the world is full of sick folk, and their
champion may not stay to see the issue of one battle before he must
hurry off to fight another.
They left me to myself, while Farquharson went down to the door with Sir
James. Presently he returned.
"I must be getting back to the patient shortly," he said. "The next hour
or so will be very critical. The nurse is here, and I have sent the
ladies to bed. But you may go in for a look, if you like. I am going out
for exactly ten minutes."
"I see--a breather. You deserve it."
"Not exactly. I'm going to vote--for Stridge!"
He chuckled in a marvellously cheering way, and left me.
As I approached Phillis's room the door opened, and I was confronted
with that most soothing and comforting of sights to a sick man--a
nurse's uniform. She was a pleasant-faced girl, I remember, and she was
carrying a basin full of sponges and water, cruelly tinged.
"Just a peep!" she said, with that little air of motherly sternness
which all women, however young, adopt towards fractious children and
helpless males.
She closed the door very softly upon me, and left me alone.
For a moment I stood uncertain in the shadow of the screen that guarded
the door. There was a whiff of chloroform in the air, and through the
doorway leading to the room where we had sat throughout the previous
night I could see the end of a white-covered table. Thank God, that part
of the business was over!
A shaded lamp burned at Phillis's bedside. She lay deathly still, an
attenuated little derelict amid an ocean of white bed-clothes.
At first I thought I was alone with the child, and was moving softly
forward when I became suddenly aware that some one was kneeling at the
far side of the bed. It was Kitty. Evidently she had not obeyed the
doctor's orders about going to bed.
A single ray from the lamp fell upon her face. Her eyes were wide open,
and she seemed to be looking straight at me. Her lips were moving, and I
became aware that she was speaking, very earnestly and almost inaudibly.
I stood still to hear her. Then I realised that her words were not
addressed to me. Very carefully I stepped back to the door-handle,
turned it, and slipped out.