The effects of striking the head against a well-built fence may vary
in severity, ranging all the way from a simple contusion through
concussion of the brain to a broken neck. If unconsciousness results it
may last from a fraction of a second to――eternity. In Winthrop’s case
it lasted something less than ten minutes, at the end of which time he
awoke to a knowledge of a dully aching head and an uncomfortable left
shoulder. Unlike some other injuries, a broken collar-bone is a plain,
open-and-above-board affliction, with small likelihood of mysterious
complications. It is possible for the surgeon to tell within a day or
two the period of resulting incapacity. The Old Doctor said two weeks.
Sunday morning Uncle Ran unpacked Winthrop’s trunk, arranging the
contents in the former places with evident satisfaction. On Monday
Winthrop was up and about the house, quite himself save for the
temporary loss of his left arm and a certain stiffness of his neck.
[Illustration]
Miss India was once more in her element. As an invalid, Winthrop had
been becoming something of a disappointment, but now he was once again
in his proper rôle. Miss India kept an anxiously watchful eye on him,
and either Uncle Ran or Phœbe was certain to be hovering about whenever
he lifted his eyes. The number of eggnoggs and other strengthening
beverages which Winthrop was compelled to drink during the ensuing week
would be absolutely appalling if set down in cold print.
Of Holly he caught but brief glimpses those first days of his
disability. She was all soft solicitude, but found occupations that
kept her either at the back of the house or in her chamber. She feared
that Winthrop was awaiting a convenient moment when they were alone
to ask her about the accident. As a matter of fact, he had little
curiosity about it. He was pretty certain that Julian had in some
manner frightened the horse, but he had not heard the sound of the
whip, since Holly’s sudden cry and the mare’s instant start had drowned
it. It seemed a very slight matter, after all. Doubtless Julian’s rage
had mastered him for the instant, and doubtless he was already heartily
ashamed of himself. Indeed his ministrations to Winthrop pending the
arrival of the Old Doctor had been as solicitous as friendship could
have demanded. Winthrop was quite ready to let by-gones be by-gones.
“Besides,” Winthrop told himself, “I deliberately led him on to lose
control of himself. I’m as much to blame as he is. I wasn’t in my right
mind myself that night; maybe the evening ended less disastrously than
it might have. I dare say it was the moonlight. I’ve blamed everything
so far on the weather, and the moonlight might as well come in for
its share. Served me right, too, for wanting to make a holy show of
myself on horseback. Oh, I was decidedly mad that night; moon-mad,
that’s it.” He reflected a moment, then―― “The worst thing about being
knocked unconscious,” he went on, “is that you don’t know what happens
until you come to again. Now I’d like to have looked on at events. For
instance, I’d give a thousand dollars――if I still possess that much――to
know what Holly did or said, or didn’t do. I think I’ll ask her.”