mind that. See to the wound, please, while
I ran for bandages, and salts, and wine."
Miss Muir was gone as she spoke, so fleetly that it was in vain to call her
back or catch her. During her brief absence, the story was told by repentant
Ned and the wound examined.
"Fortunately I have my case of instruments with me," said the doctor,
spreading on the bench a long array of tiny, glittering implements of torture.
"Now, Mr. Ned, come here, and hold the arm in
that way, while I tie the artery. Hey! That will never do. Don't tremble so,
man, look away and hold it steadily."
"I can't!" And poor Ned turned faint and white, not at the sight but
with the bitter thought that he had longed to kill his brother.
"I will hold it," and a slender white hand lifted the bare and bloody
arm so firmly, steadily, that Coventry sighed a sigh of relief, and Dr. Scott fell
to work with an emphatic nod of approval.
It was soon over, and while Edward ran in to bid the servants beware of
alarming their mistress, Dr. Scott put up his instruments and Miss Muir used
salts, water, and wine so skillfully that Gerald was able to walk to his room,
leaning on the old man, while the girl supported the wounded arm, as no sling
could be made on the spot. As he entered the chamber, Coventry turned, put out
his left hand, and with much feeling in his fine eyes said simply, "Miss
Muir, I thank you."
The color came up beautifully in her pale cheeks as she pressed the hand and
without a word vanished from the room. Lucia and the housekeeper came bustling
in, and there was no lack of attendance on the invalid. He soon wearied of it,
and sent them all away but Ned, who remorsefully haunted the chamber, looking
like a comely young Cain and feeling like an outcast.
"Come here, lad, and tell me all about it. I was wrong to be domineering.
Forgive me, and believe that I care for your happiness more sincerely than for
my own."
These frank and friendly words healed the breach between the two brothers and
completely conquered Ned. Gladly did he relate his love passages, for no young
lover ever tires of that amusement if he has a sympathizing auditor, and Gerald was sympathetic now. For
an hour did he lie listening patiently to the history of the growth of his
brother's passion. Emotion gave the narrator
eloquence, and Jean Muir's character was painted in glowing colors. All her
unsuspected kindness to those about her was dwelt upon; all her faithful care,
her sisterly interest in Bella, her gentle attentions to their mother, her
sweet forbearance with Lucia, who plainly showed her dislike, and most of all,
her friendly counsel, sympathy, and regard for Ned himself.
"She would make a man of me. She puts strength and courage into me as no
one else can. She is unlike any girl I ever saw; there's no sentimentality
about her; she is wise, and kind, and sweet. She says what she means, looks you
straight in the eye, and is as true as steel. I've tried her, I know her,
and—ah, Gerald, I love her so!"
Here the poor lad leaned his face into his hands and sighed a sigh that made
his brother's heart ache.
"Upon my soul, Ned, I feel for you; and if there was no obstacle on her
part, I'd do my best for you. She loves Sydney , and so there is nothing for it but to bear
your fate like a man."
"Are you sure about Sydney ? May it not be some one else?" and Ned eyed his brother with a
suspicious look.
I ran for bandages, and salts, and wine."
Miss Muir was gone as she spoke, so fleetly that it was in vain to call her
back or catch her. During her brief absence, the story was told by repentant
Ned and the wound examined.
"Fortunately I have my case of instruments with me," said the doctor,
spreading on the bench a long array of tiny, glittering implements of torture.
"Now, Mr. Ned, come here, and hold the arm in
that way, while I tie the artery. Hey! That will never do. Don't tremble so,
man, look away and hold it steadily."
"I can't!" And poor Ned turned faint and white, not at the sight but
with the bitter thought that he had longed to kill his brother.
"I will hold it," and a slender white hand lifted the bare and bloody
arm so firmly, steadily, that Coventry sighed a sigh of relief, and Dr. Scott fell
to work with an emphatic nod of approval.
It was soon over, and while Edward ran in to bid the servants beware of
alarming their mistress, Dr. Scott put up his instruments and Miss Muir used
salts, water, and wine so skillfully that Gerald was able to walk to his room,
leaning on the old man, while the girl supported the wounded arm, as no sling
could be made on the spot. As he entered the chamber, Coventry turned, put out
his left hand, and with much feeling in his fine eyes said simply, "Miss
Muir, I thank you."
The color came up beautifully in her pale cheeks as she pressed the hand and
without a word vanished from the room. Lucia and the housekeeper came bustling
in, and there was no lack of attendance on the invalid. He soon wearied of it,
and sent them all away but Ned, who remorsefully haunted the chamber, looking
like a comely young Cain and feeling like an outcast.
"Come here, lad, and tell me all about it. I was wrong to be domineering.
Forgive me, and believe that I care for your happiness more sincerely than for
my own."
These frank and friendly words healed the breach between the two brothers and
completely conquered Ned. Gladly did he relate his love passages, for no young
lover ever tires of that amusement if he has a sympathizing auditor, and Gerald was sympathetic now. For
an hour did he lie listening patiently to the history of the growth of his
brother's passion. Emotion gave the narrator
eloquence, and Jean Muir's character was painted in glowing colors. All her
unsuspected kindness to those about her was dwelt upon; all her faithful care,
her sisterly interest in Bella, her gentle attentions to their mother, her
sweet forbearance with Lucia, who plainly showed her dislike, and most of all,
her friendly counsel, sympathy, and regard for Ned himself.
"She would make a man of me. She puts strength and courage into me as no
one else can. She is unlike any girl I ever saw; there's no sentimentality
about her; she is wise, and kind, and sweet. She says what she means, looks you
straight in the eye, and is as true as steel. I've tried her, I know her,
and—ah, Gerald, I love her so!"
Here the poor lad leaned his face into his hands and sighed a sigh that made
his brother's heart ache.
"Upon my soul, Ned, I feel for you; and if there was no obstacle on her
part, I'd do my best for you. She loves Sydney , and so there is nothing for it but to bear
your fate like a man."
"Are you sure about Sydney ? May it not be some one else?" and Ned eyed his brother with a
suspicious look.
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