She swayed towards me. I caught her as she fell and bore her to a stool. But though quite overcome she was not unconscious. Yet her fortitude was broken down at last and she was helpless. She could not even sit up unassisted. Placing her on the floor a while, I made her drink some spirit and then, lifting her upon my knee, I rocked her in my arms like a child and did my best to soothe her fears. Heavens, how she cried! My handkerchief was soon as wet as if I had soused it in a basin of water, and yet she still cried on. I spoke to her all the time. I told her that I would answer for her safety with my life, and all sorts of things. And thinking of her as a poor little child, I called her "dear" continually and "darling"--and I let her weep herself into an exhausted sleep upon my breast. And when that happened I did not need anyone to tell me that science was no longer the mistress of my fate or that I, a comparative pauper, had committed the unutterable folly of falling in love with the daughter of a millionaire--whose religion was Pride with a capital P. I held her so till dawn, staring dumbly at her face, and thus when her eyes opened they looked straight into mine. She did not move, and half-unwillingly my arms tightened round her. "The bad dream is over, little girl," I whispered. "See--the golden sunlight." "May--May," said Sir Robert's voice. She started up, her face aflame. I followed her to the bedside. The patient was awake, and strong and hungry. Also querulous. He complained of the pain of the wound and ordered me to dress it. He had seen nothing. But I knew Miss Ottley would not forgive me on that account. I read it in her eyes. After I had dressed the patient's wound and we had fed him, she followed me to the door. "You had no right to let me sleep--like that," she said imperiously. There was nothing for it but to insult her or to prove myself an adventurer. I had no mind for the latter course. "Quite right," I returned, "when you behaved like an idiot I should have treated you as such and left you to recover from your own silly terror instead of acting the soft fool and losing my own rest in serving you. I'll do it, too--next time. What will you have for breakfast?" She swung on her heel and left me. Chapter VI Enter Dr. Belleville