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Without another word she went to Valentina's side, and between them they dragged her, sick at heart, trembling, and half fainting, out of the studio and down the stairs to Lady Grayson's carriage, which was waiting at the door.
"Is anything the matter, miss? Can I do anything?" said a voice.
Cornel looked up from where she was kneeling on one of the rugs with Armstrong's head in her lap, and saw that the grimy little face of Keren-Happuch was peering in at the door.
Cornel looked at her wildly for a few moments, and then, in a low hoa.r.s.e voice, whispered--
"Yes: quick, water!" Then, with a piteous sigh, "Oh, the blood--the blood! Help!--quick, quick! He is dying. Oh, my love, my love, that it should come to this!"
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
THE AWAKENING.
"Don't you be in a flurry, miss," said Keren-Happuch coolly; "he ain't so very bad. Here, you'll soon see."
She rushed into the bedroom, and returned with a basin, sponge, and towel, which, to her surprise and annoyance, were taken from her hand; and she saw Cornel, with deft manipulation, bathe the cut, examine it, and then take from her pocket a little case, out of which she drew a pair of scissors and a leaf of adhesive plaster. A minute later she had closely clipped away a little of the hair, pressed the cut together, and cleverly strapped it up.
"Hold this handkerchief pressed to it tightly, while I bathe his temples," said Cornel; and, as the little maid obeyed, she watched with wide open eyes the pulse felt and the temples bathed before a few drops from a stoppered bottle were added to a wine-gla.s.s full of water, and gently poured between the insensible man's lips.
"Lor', if she ain't one o' them female doctors," thought Keren-Happuch.
"Wonder what she's give him to drink?"
There was a singular look of dislike condensed into a frown on the girl's brows as she watched Cornel, and a jealous scowl or two as she saw her take Armstrong's hand and kneel by his side, waiting for some signs of returning animation; but at last it seemed as if the girl could not keep her tongue quiet.
"I say," she whispered, "are you a doctor, miss?"
"No: my brother is a medical man, though, and I have been often to a hospital and helped him as a nurse."
"Oh, then you know what's right. But oughtn't he to have some beef-tea?"
Cornel shook her head, and Keren-Happuch was silent for a few minutes, but she could refrain no longer.
"You're the 'Merican lady he was engaged to, aren't you?"
Cornel bowed.
"I thought you was. I've took him your letters with Bosting on 'em, lots o' times."
Cornel sighed.
"You're going to marry him, ain't you?"
"No."
"Then it's all off?"
"Yes."
Keren-Happuch looked relieved. The scowl disappeared from her countenance, and she smiled at Cornel.
"Don't you take on about it, miss. It ain't worth it. I allers liked Mr. Dale, and he makes me feel as if I'd do anything for him, and I allus have done as much as missus'd let me; but it's no use to worry about artisses; they're all like Mr. Dale--all them as we've had here."
Cornel looked at her indignantly.
"Oh, it ain't my fault, miss. I never wanted him to have ladies come to see him. I've gone down into the kitchen along with our old cat, and had many a good cry about it. Not as he ever thought anything about me."
Cornel looked at the girl in wonder and horror.
"But he was allus kind to me, and never called me names, and made fun of me like the others did. On'y Mirandy, and I didn't mind that. Them others teased me orful, you know. Men ain't much good; but you can't help liking of 'em."
"Hush!" whispered Cornel; "he is coming to." For there was a quivering about Dale's lips, and then his eyes opened wildly, to gaze vacantly upward for some moments before memory rea.s.serted itself, and he gave a sudden start and looked sharply round.
Cornel suppressed a sigh.
"Not for me," she said to herself; and she was right. The look was not for her.
She knew it directly, for he turned to her, caught her wrist, and said excitedly--
"Gone?"
"Yes; they are gone."
"But Lady Dellatoria--gone--with him?"
The words seemed as if they would choke her, but Cornel spoke out quite plainly, and without a tremor in her voice, though there was a terrible compression at her breast.
"Yes," she said calmly, though every word she uttered caused her a pang; "she has gone back with her husband."
Armstrong lay perfectly still for a few minutes, thinking deeply. Then, as if resolved what to do, he said sharply--
"Help me up."
Cornel bent over him, but he turned from her.
"No, no, not you: Miranda."
The girl eagerly helped him to rise, and he leaned upon her as she guided him to a chair.
"Thanks," he said huskily. "Now, you wait there."
The girl stopped at the place he had pointed out, watching Armstrong as he signed to Cornel to approach, and held out his hand.
She took it mechanically, and held it fast.
"Thank you for what you have done," he said.
"Now go and forget me. You see I am hopelessly gone. It was to be, and it is of no use to fight against fate. Now go back to your brother."