The doctor came a few minutes later, but Mrs. Harley did not appear with
him as Maxwell had dreaded she would. He decided that Mrs. Maxwell had
strained, not sprained, her ankle, and he explained how the difference
was all the difference in the world, as he bound the ankle up with a
long ribbon of india-rubber, and issued directions for care and quiet.
He left them there, and Maxwell heard him below in parley, apparently
with the actress at her door. Louise lay with her head on her husband's
arm, and held his other hand tight in hers, while he knelt by the bed.
The bliss of repentance and mutual forgiveness filled both their hearts,
while she told him how she had hurt herself.
"I had got down to the last step, and I was putting my foot to the
pavement, and I thought, Now I am going to turn my ankle. Wasn't it
strange? And I turned it. How did you get me upstairs?"
"The janitor carried you."
"How lucky he happened to be there! I suppose the hall-boy kept me from
falling--poor little fellow! You must give him some money. How did you
find out about me?"
"He ran up to tell," Maxwell said this, and then he hesitated. "I guess
you had better know all about it. Can you bear something disagreeable,
or would you rather wait--"
"No, no, tell me now! I can't bear to wait. What is it?"
"It wasn't the hall-boy that caught you. It was that--woman."
He felt her neck and hand grow rigid, but he went on, and told her all
about it. At the end some quiet tears came into her eyes. "Well, then,
we must be civil to her. I am glad you told me at once, Brice!" She
pulled his head down and kissed him, and he was glad, too.