When she recovered the doctor was standing by her; and Eliza was picking up fragments of the broken bottle.  The smell of the spilled brandy reminded her of what had happened.

“Where is Miss Conolly?” she said, trying to collect her wits.  “I am afraid I fainted at the very moment when I was most wanted.”

“All right,” said the doctor.  “Keep quiet; youll be well presently.  Dont be in a hurry to talk.”

Marian obeyed; and the doctor, whose manner was kind, though different to that of the London physicians to whom she was accustomed, presently left the room and went upstairs.  Eliza was howling like an animal.  The sound irritated Marian even at that pass:  she despised the whole Irish race on its account.  She could hardly keep her temper as she said: 

“Is Miss Conolly seriously hurt?”

“Oa, blessed hour! she’s kilt.  Her head’s dhreepin wid blood.”

Marian shuddered and felt faint again.

“Lord Almighty save use, I doa knoa how she done it at all, at all.  She must ha fell agin the stoave.  It’s the dhrink, dhrink, dhrink, that brought her to it.  It’s little I knew what that wairy bottle o brandy would do to her, or sorra bit o me would ha got it.”

“You did very wrong in getting it, Eliza.”

“What could I do, miss, when she axed me?”

“There is no use in crying over it now.  It would have been kinder to have kept it from her.”

“Sure I know.  Many’s the time I tould her so.  But she could talk the birds off the bushes, and it wint to me heart to refuse her.  God send her well out of her throuble!”

Here the doctor returned.  “How are you now?” he said.

“I think I am better.  Pray dont think of me.  How is she?”

“It’s all over.  Hallo!  Come, Miss Biddy! you go and cry in the kitchen,” he added, pushing Eliza, who had set up an intolerable lamentation, out of the room.

“How awful!” said Marian, stunned.  “Are you quite sure?  She seemed better this morning.”

“Quite sure,” said the doctor, smiling grimly at the question.  “She was practically dead when they carried her upstairs, poor girl.  It’s easier to kill a person than you think, Mrs. Forster, although she tried so long and so hard without succeeding.  But she’d have done it.  She’d have been starved into health only to drink herself back into starvation, and the end would have been a very bad one.  Better as it is, by far!”

“Doctor:  I must go out and telegraph the news to London.  I know one of her relatives there.”

The doctor shook his head.  “I will telegraph if you like, but you must stay here.  Youre not yet fit to go out.”

“I am afraid I have not been well lately,” said Marian.  “I want to consult you about myself—­not now, of course, after what has happened, but some day when you have leisure to call.”

“You can put off consulting me just as long as you please; but this accident is no reason why you shouldnt do it at once.  If there is anything wrong, the sooner you have advice—­you neednt have it from me if you prefer some other doctor—­the better.”