He was sprinkling water on the white face that lay before him.

Robbie had recovered his wakefulness, and was kneeling at Sim's feet, chafing his hands.
Rotha stood at her father's side, motionless.
"There, he's coming to.

Martha," said Ralph, "hadn't you better take Rotha to the kitchen fire ?" The two women left the room.
Sim's eyes opened; there was a watery humor in them which was not tears.

The color came back to his cheeks, but with the return of consciousness his face grew thinner and more haggard.

He heaved a heavy sigh, and seemed to realize his surroundings.