Constance took it, looked astonished, then frowned slightly, and finally glanced again in the mirror. Without a word, she took her gloves and fan from the maid, and descended to the drawing-room.

"Good-evening, Dr. Armstrong," she said, coolly.

"I have come here--I have intruded on you, Miss Durant," awkwardly and hurriedly began the doctor, "because nothing else would satisfy Swot McGarrigle. I trust you will understand that I--He--he is to undergo an operation, and--well, I told him it was impossible, but he still begged me so to ask you, that I hadn't the heart to refuse him."

"An operation!" cried Constance.

"Don't be alarmed. It's really nothing serious. He--Perhaps you may have noticed how restless and miserable he has been lately. It is due, we have decided, to one of the nerves of the leg having been lacerated, and so I am going to remove it, to end the suffering, which is now pretty keen."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," exclaimed the girl, regretfully. "I didn't dream of it, and so was hard on him, and said I wouldn't come any more."

"He has missed your visits very much, Miss Durant, and we found it very hard to comfort him each morning, when only your servant came."

"Has he really? I thought they were nothing to him."

"If you knew that cla.s.s better, you would appreciate that they are really grateful and warm-hearted, but they fear to show their feelings, and, besides, could not express them, even if they had the words, which they don't. But if you could hear the little chap sing your praises to the nurses and to me, you would not think him heartless. 'My loidy' is his favourite description of you."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'I have come here--I have intruded on you, Miss Durant,'

hurriedly began the doctor"]

"He wants to see me?" questioned the girl, eagerly.

"Yes. Like most of the poorer cla.s.s, Miss Durant," explained the doctor, "he has a great dread of the knife. To make him less frantic, I promised that I would come to you with his wish; and though I would not for a moment have you present at the actual operation, if you could yield so far as to come to him for a few minutes, and a.s.sure him that we are going to do it for his own good, I think it will make him more submissive."

"When do you want me?" asked Miss Durant.

"It is--I am to operate as soon as I can get back to the hospital, Miss Durant. It has been regrettably postponed as it is."

The girl stood hesitating for a moment. "But what am I to do about my dinner?"

Dr. Armstrong's eyes travelled over her from head to foot, taking in the charming gown of satin and lace, the strings of pearls about her exquisite throat and wrists, and all the other details which made up such a beautiful picture. "I forgot," he said, quietly, "that society duties now take precedence over all others." Then, with an instant change of manner, he went on: "You do yourself an injustice, I think, Miss Durant, in even questioning what you are going to do. You know you are coming to the boy."

For the briefest instant the girl returned his intent look, trying to fathom what enabled him to speak with such absolute surety; then she said, "Let us lose no time," as she turned back into the hall and hurried out of the front door, not even attending to the doctor's protest about her going without a wrap; and she only said to him at the carriage door, "You will drive with me, of course, Dr. Armstrong?" Then to the footman, "Tell Murdock, the hospital, Maxwell, but you are to go at once to Mrs. Purdy, and say I shall be prevented from coming to her to-night by a call that was not to be disregarded,"

"It was madness of you, Miss Durant, to come out without a cloak, and I insist on your wearing this," said the doctor, the moment the carriage had started, as he removed his own overcoat.

"Oh, I forgot--but I mustn't take it from you, Dr. Armstrong."

"Have no thought of me. I am twice as warmly clad as you, and am better protected than usual."

Despite her protest he placed it about Constance's shoulders and b.u.t.toned it up. "You know," he said, "the society girl with her bare throat and arms is at once the marvel and the despair of us doctors, for every dinner or ball ought to have its death-list from pneumonia; but it never--"

"Will it be a very painful operation?" asked the girl.

"Not at all; and the anaesthetic prevents consciousness. If Swot were a little older, I should not have had to trouble you. It is a curious fact that boys, as a rule, face operations more bravely than any other cla.s.s of patient we have."

"I wonder why that is?" queried Constance.

"It is due to the same ambition which makes cigarette-smokers of them--a desire to be thought manly."

Once the carriage reached the hospital, Constance followed the doctor up the stairs and through the corridor. "Let me relieve you of the coat, Miss Durant," he advised, and took it from her and pa.s.sed it over to one of the orderlies. Then, opening a door, he made way for her to enter.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "The two were quickly seated on the floor"]

Constance pa.s.sed into a medium-sized room, which a first glance showed her to be completely lined with marble; but there her investigations ceased, for her eyes rested on the gla.s.s table upon which lay the little fellow, while beside him stood a young doctor and a nurse. At the sound of her footsteps the boy turned his head till he caught sight of her, when, after an instant's stare, he surprised the girl by hiding his eyes and beginning to cry.

"Ise knowed all along youse wuz goin' to kill me," he sobbed.

"Why, Swot," cried Constance, going to his side. "n.o.body is going to kill you."

The hands were removed from the eyes, and still full of tears, they blinkingly stared a moment at the girl.

"Hully gee! Is dat youse?" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Ise tought youse wuz de angel come for me."

"You may go many years in society, Miss Durant, without winning another compliment so genuine," remarked Dr. Armstrong, smiling. "Nor is it surprising that he was misled," he added.

Constance smiled in return as she answered, "And it only proves how the value of a compliment is not in its truthfulness, but in its being truth to the one who speaks it."

"Say, youse won't let dem do nuttin' bad to me, will youse?" implored the boy.

"They are only going to help you, Swot," the girl a.s.sured him, as she took his hand.

"Den w'y do dey want to put me to sleep for?"

"To spare you suffering,"

"Dis oin't no knock-out drops, or dat sorter goime? Honest?"

"No. I won't let them do you any harm."

"Will youse watch dem all de time dey's doin' tings to me?"

"Yes. And if you'll be quiet and take it nicely, I'll bring you a present to-morrow."

"Dat's grand! Wot'll youse guv me? Say, don't do dat," he protested, as the nurse applied the sponge and cone to his face.

"Lie still, Swot," said Constance, soothingly, "and tell me what you would best like me to give you. Shall it be a box of building-blocks--or some soldiers--or a fire-engine--or--"

"Nah. Ise don't want nuttin' but one ting--an' dat's--wot wuz Ise tinkin'--Ise forgits wot it wuz--lemme see--Wot's de matter? Wheer is youse all?--" The little frame relaxed and lay quiet.

"That is all you can do for us, Miss Durant," said Dr. Armstrong.

"May I not stay, as I promised him I would?" begged Constance.

"Can you bear the sight of blood?"

"I don't know--but see--I'll turn my back." Suiting the action to the word, the girl faced so that, still holding Swot's hand, she was looking away from the injured leg.