You can't know what
that little girl has done for me these years. Her trust in me--it is
extraordinary how utterly she trusts me--somehow held me up to my best
and back from perdition. It is the one bright spot in my life in this
blessed country. Everyone else thinks me a pleasant or unpleasant kind
of fiend."
I protested rather faintly.
"Oh, don't worry your conscience," he answered, with a slight return
of his old smile, "a fuller knowledge would only justify the opinion."
Then, after a pause, he added: "But if Gwen goes, I must pull out, I
could not stand it."
As we rode up, the doctor came out.
"Well, what do you think?" asked The Duke.
"Can't say yet," replied the old doctor, gruff with long army practice,
"bad enough. Good night."
But The Duke's hand fell upon his shoulder with a grip that must have
got to the bone, and in a husky voice he asked:
"Will she live?"
The doctor squirmed, but could not shake off that crushing grip.
"Here, you young tiger, let go! What do you think I am made of?" he
cried, angrily. "I didn't suppose I was coming to a bear's den, or I
should have brought a gun."
It was only by the most complete apology that The Duke could mollify the
old doctor sufficiently to get his opinion.
"No, she will not die! Great bit of stuff! Better she should die,
perhaps! But can't say yet for two weeks.
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