“Don’t be flurried, my dear,” said Doctor Asher, as, in a calm, business-like way, he saw to Gartram being laid easily on the floor, where he had fallen in the study.

“But he looks so ghastly.  You do not think ­”

“Yes, I do, my child,” said the doctor cheerfully.  “Not what you think, because I know.  He has another fit precisely the same as the last, and it was evidently a sudden seizure, just as he had risen from his chair, after writing that letter.”

“Then there is no danger?”

“Oh, dear, no.  That’s right, you see.  We’ll have this mattress on the floor; and he can lie here.  Don’t be alarmed.”

“But I am horribly alarmed.”

“Then you must not be, my child.  I will not conceal the fact from you that he will probably be subject to more fits, and may have one at any time.”

“But I feel so helpless.”

“So does a doctor, my dear.  We try all we can, but time has to perform the greater part of the cure, after we have done all we can to avoid suffocation, and the patient injuring himself in his struggles.  There, there; he’s going on all right, and you’ve been a very good, brave girl.  I quite admire your behaviour all through; and another time, if I am not here, you will know exactly how to act.”

“Oh, don’t talk of another time, Doctor Asher.”

“Well, I will not,” he said, smiling.  “Now, don’t be alarmed, but keep perfectly cool, for I must go back and see to that poor fellow at the quarry.”

“Yes, of course.  But, doctor, if my poor father should be taken worse?”

“He will not be taken worse, but gradually mend.  I shall not be very long away.”

“No, no; pray don’t be long.”

“No; and mind you are my assistant.  So you must be cool and self-possessed.  Shall I send Miss Dillon to sit with you?”

“Yes, please, do,” said the agitated girl, as she gazed wildly at her father’s altered face.

Doctor Asher seemed rather to resemble a very smooth, black tom cat, and, as he drew down his cuffs, and passed his white hands over his glossy coat, an imaginative person would not have been much surprised to see him begin to lick himself, to remove a few specks caused by the business in which he had been engaged.

As he left the study and crossed the hall, with its polished granite flooring, his delicate manner of proceeding toward the drawing-room, and stepping from one to another of the oases of Eastern rugs, was still like the progress of the cat who believed the polished granite to be water, and tried to avoid wetting his paws.

When he laid his hand upon the drawing-room door, a murmur of voices came from within, and, as he entered, Mary Dillon jumped up from the low ottoman upon which she had been seated, talking to Glyddyr, and ran quickly to the doctor’s side.

“How is he?” she said excitedly.

“Better, certainly.  Miss Gartram wants you to go and stay with her.”

“Yes, of course.  Good-bye, Mr Glyddyr, and thank you for being so kind.”

She spoke as she ran to the door, jerked the last words back over her shoulder, and was gone, leaving the doctor face to face with the visitor.

“How is he?” said the latter.  “You can speak plainly to me.”

“To be sure I can, my dear sir.  Ah, what a world this is.  Yesterday we were taking our champagne in the saloon of your charming yacht, to-day ­”

“You are keeping me waiting for an answer,” said Glyddyr, rather stiffly.

“So I am,” said the doctor, smiling.  “Well, how is he?  Rather bad.  Nasty fit of his usual sort.”

“Then he is subject to these fits?”

“Most decidedly.”

“But what caused it?”

“Worry.  From what I can gather, he must have some upset when out walking.  Our friend has a temper.”

“Ah!” ejaculated Glyddyr.

“Then he has had some quarrel with this poor fellow who is hurt.  The terrible accident followed, and, with the customary crass obstinacy of rustic, ignorant workmen, the poor fellow and his comrades lay the blame of a trouble, caused by their own stupidity, upon their employer.”

“Yes, I see.  Caused great mental disturbance?”

“Exactly, my dear sir.  He being a man who, in the labour of making money, has nearly worried himself to death.”

“Yes.”

“And who now worries himself far more to keep it.”

“Ah, money is hard to keep,” said Glyddyr, with a smile.

“He has found it so, sir.  When the old bank broke years ago, it hit him to the tune of many thousands.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes; and that set him building this place for his protection.  I shouldn’t wonder if he has quite a bank here.”

“Indeed!  The the old man is rich?”

“Rich!  I thought every one knew that.  Better be poor and happy.”

“As we are, eh, doctor?  Well, it’s a terrible worry ­money.”

This was accompanied by a peculiar look which the doctor interpreted, and replied to with one as suggestive.

“No danger, I hope, to the old gentleman?”

“No, no.  Fits are not favourable to health, though.”

“Well, no danger this time, I hope?”

“Not a bit.  He’ll feel the shock for a few days.  That’s all.”

“And the other patient?”

“Hah, yes; I’m just going over there.”

“He is very bad, you say?”

“Bad!  I expect to find him gone.”

The doctor nodded, and left the room.

“Bah! how I do hate them,” said Glyddyr.  “I’d have walked down with him, but I always feel as if I were smelling physic.”

Glyddyr stood tapping the bottom of his watch, which he had just taken from his pocket, as he talked in a low tone, just as if he were conversing with the little round face before him.

“How wild the old boy was ­just after he had been talking to me as he had.  Pshaw!  I don’t mind.  Rustic bit of courtship.  Half-bumpkin sort of fellow, and poor as Job.  Old man wouldn’t have him at any price.  The gipsy!  Been carrying on with him, then, eh?  Well, it’s always the way with your smooth, drooping little violets.  Regular flirtation.  I don’t mind.  I wouldn’t give a dump for a girl without a bit of spirit in her.  It’s all right.  Friends at court ­a big friend at court.  But no more fits for friends ­at present, I hope.  I’ll get him to come on a cruise, and bring her.  Tell the old boy it will do him good.  Get the doctor on my side, and make him prescribe a trip round the islands, with him to come as medical attendant.  Nothing to do, and unlimited champagne.  Real diplomacy.  By Jupiter, Parry, you are a clever one, though you do get most awfully done on the turf!”

“Yes,” he said, after another look at the watch, for the purpose now of seeing the time, “that’s the plan ­a long sea trip round the islands, with sentiment, sighs and sunsets; and, as they said in the old melodramas, `Once aboard the lugger, she is mine.’  For, lugger read steam yacht, schooner-rigged Fair Star, of Cowes; Parry Glyddyr, owner.”

He laughed in a low, self-satisfied way, and then moved toward the door.

“Well, it’s of no use to wait here,” he said.  “They will not show up again.  I can call, though, as often as I like.  Come again this evening, and see her then.  She can’t refuse.  I’ll go now and see how the salmon fisher is getting on.”