“What are you talking about?” said a big voice behind her; and before Miss Beenie knew, the doctor, in all the enormity of his big beard, his splashed boots, his smell of tobacco, was kneeling beside her, examining Miss Dempster, whose wide open eyes seemed to repulse him, though she herself lay passive under his hand. He kept talking all the time while he examined her pulse, her looks, her eyes. “We must get her carried home,” he said. “You must be brave, Miss Beenie, and keep all your wits about you. I am hoping we will bring her round. Has there been anything the matter with her, or has it just come on suddenly to-day?” “Oh, doctor, she has eaten nothing. She has been very feeble and pale. She never would let me say it. She is very masterful; she will never give in. Oh that I should say a word that might have an ill meaning, and her lying immovable there!” “There is no ill meaning. It’s your duty to tell me everything. She is a very masterful woman; by means of that she may pull through. And were there any preliminaries to-day? Yes, that’s the right thing to do--if it will not tire you to sit in that position----” “Tire me!” cried Miss Beenie--“if it eases her.” “I cannot say it eases her. She is past suffering for the moment. Lord bless me, I never saw such a case. Those eyes of hers are surely full of meaning. She is perhaps more conscious than we think. But anyway, it’s the best thing to do. Stay you here till I get something to carry her on----” “What is the matter?” said another voice, and Fred Dirom came hastily up. “Why, doctor, what has happened--Miss Dempster?”--he said this with an involuntary cry of surprise and alarm. “I am afraid this is very serious,” he cried. “Not so serious as it soon will be if we stand havering,” cried the doctor. “Get something, a mattress, to put her on. Man, look alive. There’s a cottage close by. Ye’ll get something if ye stir them up. Fly there, and I’ll stay with them to give them a heart.” “Oh, doctor, you’re very kind--we’ve perhaps not been such good friends to ye as we might----” “Friends, toots!” said the doctor, “we’re all friends at heart.” Meantime the stir of an accident had got into the air. Miss Beenie’s cries had no doubt reached some rustic ears; but it takes a long time to rouse attention in those regions. “What will yon be? It would be somebody crying. It sounded awfureplace with’ like somebody crying. It will be some tramp about the roads; it will be somebody frighted at the muckle bull----” Then at last there came into all minds the leisurely impulse--“Goodsake, gang to the door and see----” Janet Murray was the first to run out to her door. When her intelligence was at length awakened to the fact that something had happened, nobody could be more kind. She rushed out and ran against Fred Dirom, who was hurrying towards the cottage with a startled face. “Can you get me a mattress or something to carry her upon?” he cried, breathless. “Is it an accident?” said Janet.