“There is someone in the entry, dear child,” whispered Mrs. Errol.  “Go and see—­go and see!”

She went, moving as one stricken blind.  But before she reached the door it opened and someone entered.  She saw Capper as through a mist in which bodily weakness and anguished fear combined to overwhelm her.  And then very steadily his arm encircled her, drew her tottering to a chair.

“It’s all right,” he said in his expressionless drawl.  “The patient has regained consciousness, and is doing O.K.  Are you ladies thinking of lunch?  Because if so, I guess I’ll join you.  No, Mrs. Errol, you can’t see him before to-night at the earliest.  Lady Carfax, I have a message for you—­the first words he spoke when he came to.  He was hardly conscious when he uttered them, but I guess you’ll be kind of interested to hear what they were.  ‘Tell Anne,’ he said, ‘I’m going to get well.’”

The intense deliberation with which he spoke gave her time to collect herself, but the words affected her oddly.  After a moment she rose, went to Mrs. Errol, who had covered her face with both hands while he was speaking, and knelt beside her.  Neither of them uttered a sound.

Capper strolled to the window, his hands deep in his pockets, and looked out upon the wind-swept gardens.  He whistled very softly to himself, as a man well satisfied.

He did not turn his head till at the end of five minutes Anne came to his side.  She was very pale but quite self-possessed.

“Mrs. Errol has gone to her room,” she said.  “She wished to be alone.”

“Gone to have a good cry, eh?” said Capper.  “Healthiest thing she could do.  And what about you?”

She smiled with lips that faintly quivered.  “I am quite all right, Doctor.  And—­I have ordered luncheon.”

He turned fully round and looked her up and down with lightning swiftness.  “You’re a very remarkable woman, Lady Carfax,” he said after a moment.

“I hope you may never be disappointed in me,” she answered gravely.

“I hope so too,” he said, “for there is a good deal dependent upon you.”

“What do you mean?” She raised her clear eyes interrogatively.

But he baffled her, as he baffled everyone, with the very keenness of his own scrutiny.  He began to crack all his fingers in turn.

“I mean,” he said, “that even I can’t work miracles by myself.  I can do the elementary part.  I can cut and saw and sew, but I can’t heal.  I can’t give life.  That’s the woman’s part.  That’s where I count on you.  And I don’t think you are going to fail me, Lady Carfax.”

“I promise you I will do my utmost,” she said very earnestly.

He nodded.  “I believe you will.  But even so, you can’t do too much.  It’s a serious case, even more serious than I expected.  I don’t say this to alarm you, but I guess you had better know it.  It’ll be a tough, uphill fight, and he’ll need a deal of pushing behind.  It may entail more than you dream of—­a big sacrifice perhaps; who knows?  But you women don’t shy at sacrifices.  And, believe me, he’s worth a sacrifice.”