It must have been hours later, she reflected afterwards, that she heard the Colonel’s voice exclaim hoarsely over her head, “In heaven’s name, say she isn’t dead!”

And, “Of course she isn’t,” came Eustace’s curt response.  “Should I be carrying her if she were?”

She tried to open her eyes, but could not.  They seemed to be weighted down.  But she did very feebly close her numbed hands about Eustace’s coat.  Emphatically she did not want to be handed over like a bale of goods to the Colonel.

He clasped her to him reassuringly, and presently she knew that he bore her upstairs, holding her comfortably close all the way.

“Don’t go away from me!” she begged him weakly.

“Not so long as you want me, little sweetheart,” he made answer.  But her woman’s heart told her that a parting was imminent notwithstanding.

In all her life she had never had so much attention before.  She seemed to have entered upon a new and amazing phase of existence.  Colonel de Vigne faded completely into the background, and she found herself in the care of Biddy and the doctor.  Eustace left her with a low promise to return, and she had to be satisfied with that thought, though she would fain have clung to him still.

They undressed her and put her into a hot bath that did much to lessen the numb constriction of her limbs, though it brought also the most agonizing pain she had ever known.  When it was over, the limit of her endurance was long past; and she lay in hot blankets weeping helplessly while Biddy tried in vain to persuade her to drink some scalding mixture that she swore would make her feel as gay as a lark.

In the midst of this, someone entered quietly and stood beside her; and all in a moment there came to Dinah the consciousness of an unknown force very strangely uplifting her.  She looked up with a quivering smile in the midst of her tears.

“Oh, Mr. Greatheart,” she whispered brokenly, “is it you?”

He smiled down upon her, and took the cup from Biddy’s shaky old hand.

“May I give you this?” he said.

Dinah was filled with gratified confusion.  “Oh, please, you mustn’t trouble!  But—­how very kind of you!”

He took Biddy’s place by her side.  His eyes were shining with an odd brilliance, almost, she thought to herself wonderingly, as if they held tears.  A sharp misgiving went through her.  How was it they were bestowing so much care upon her, unless Isabel—­Isabel—­

She did not dare to put her doubt into words, but he read it and instantly answered it.  “Don’t be anxious!” he said in his kindly, tired voice.  “All is well.  Isabel is asleep—­actually sleeping quietly without any draught.  The doctor is quite satisfied about her.”

He spoke the simple truth, she knew; he was incapable of doing anything else.  A great wave of thankfulness went through her, obliterating the worst of her misery.