He managed very skilfully, with Marcia's help and with that of the repentant and miserable Susan, to convey the poor invalid to a bed, which had already been warmed for her. She then sat by her, administering brandy and water at short intervals, and holding her wrist between his fingers and thumb. "That's better," he said, after a time. "Now, then, Miss Marcia, will you go downstairs and prepare a nice cup of bread and milk and bring it up to me? she must manage to eat it. She has been absolutely starved; she has had nothing at all since her early dinner." Marcia flew out of the room. "Susan," she said, "Susan, what is the meaning of this?" "Don't ask me, Miss; 'tain't my fault. When young ladies themselves are born without natural affection, what can a poor servant gel do? Do you think I'd leave _my_ mother? No, that I wouldn't. Poor lady, and she that devoted to them. To be sure she have her little fads and fancies, and her little crotchets, as what invalid but wouldn't have? But, oh, Miss, to think of their unkindness." "Don't think of it now; they will be sorry enough by-and-by," said Marcia. "Help me to get some bread and milk ready." She brought it up a few minutes later, steaming hot and tempting looking. The invalid was conscious again now, and her cheeks were flushed with the amount of brandy she had taken. She began to talk in a weak, excited manner. "I had such a long sleep and got so dreadfully cold," she said. "I thought I was climbing up and up a hill, and I could never get to the top. It was a horrid dream. Marcia, dear, is that you? How nice you look in your grey dress, so quiet looking." "Hush, Mrs Aldworth," said the doctor, in a cheerful voice, "you must not talk too much just now. You must lie quiet." "Oh, doctor, I've been lying quiet so long, so many hours. Oh, yes, I remember--it was Molly. She had on a blue dress, a blue muslin and forget-me-not bows, and she looked so sweet, and she said the Carters were here--the Carters and--and--she was very anxious to go down to them. It was natural, wasn't it, doctor?" "Yes, yes. Aren't you going to eat your bread and milk?" "I'll feed you, mother," said Marcia. She knelt by her and put the nourishment between the blue lips. "You are such a good girl, Marcia; so kind to me." "Everybody ought to be kind to you," said Marcia, "and everybody will be," she murmured under her breath. "Marcia is an excellent girl; you have never said a truer word, Mrs Aldworth," remarked the doctor.