“No one has ever called me like my mother before,” she was saying. “I did not know you had ever met her. She is a great invalid.” “What can I do for you now?” he asked, to change the dangerous subject. “A man from the stables here met me in the park,” she answered, her color rising high, “and told me of an accident to a gentleman who was staying at our house last night. I suppose you know all about it--about how it happened, I mean, and how the wound broke out again. You have just come from seeing him, have you not? How is he? Pray tell me!” Dr. Ernest Netherbridge was a man of extremely observant mind, and he drew his own conclusions from the evident interest shown by the young lady before him for the handsome young giant upstairs. “He is very feverish, and has a nasty wound in the shoulder, which has not been improved by the shaking and jolting he has gone through to-day. I understand that he was your father’s guest last night?” “My father has never seen him; he only returned home to-day, and Mr. Pritchard left before luncheon. He seemed very anxious to get back to London,” faltered Stella, conscious that she was blushing crimson under the steady gaze of Dr. Netherbridge’s blue eyes. “You have not told me yet whether there is any danger, and whether--whether I can see him.” “I should not say there was any absolute danger except the risk that fever might supervene after the very unwise exertions of to-day. I intended going myself to Grayling to fetch a reliable nurse of my acquaintance. As to seeing him----” he paused, and looked at her doubtfully. “May I ask,” he inquired, abruptly, “whether the sight of you is likely to disturb him?” She blushed deeper still. “It might perhaps excite him a little,” she stammered; “but I would be very quiet, and would not speak more than you let me.” “I am afraid it would be inadvisable,” said the little doctor, shaking his head. “Quiet is so essential. With rest and care, and obedience to orders, he ought to be as right as possible within a week. But any excitement to-night might produce the worst possible effect.” Tears started to Stella’s eyes. “Dr. Netherbridge,” she said, humbly, “I have an idea that I shall not have another opportunity of seeing Mr. Pritchard, perhaps, for a very long time. If I write something on a slip of paper, will you let him have it when he is better, and will you yourself tell him that I came, and that I may not be allowed to do so again? And may I see him just for one moment, without his seeing me?” The doctor reflected a moment. “He was sitting in an arm-chair when I left him,” he said. “He had refused strenuously to go to bed, and persisted in declaring he must get on to London to-night. If you will promise not to let your presence be known, you might come with me now, and see him at least.”