He was carried at once to a bedroom, and from that time Miss Anne had been fully occupied in nursing him.
He had seemed to be getting better the last day or two, and his power of speech had returned, though he spoke but rarely; only following Miss Anne's movements with earnest eyes, and hardly suffering her to leave him, even for necessary rest and refreshment.

All that afternoon he had been tossing his restless head from side to side, uttering deep, low groans, and murmuring now and then to himself words which Miss Anne could not understand.

She looked white and ill herself, as if her strength were nearly exhausted; but after the doctor had been in, and, feeling the master's pulse, shook his head solemnly, she would not consent to leave his bedside for any length of time.
'How long ?' she whispered, going with the doctor to the outside of the door.
'Not more than twenty-four hours,' was the answer.
'Will he be conscious all the time ?' she asked again.
'I cannot tell certainly,' replied the doctor, 'but most probably not.' Only twenty-four hours! One day of swiftly-passing time, and then the eternal future! One more sun-setting, and one more sun-rising, and then everlasting night, or eternal day! For a minute Miss Anne leaned against the doorway, with a fainting spirit.

There was so much to do, and so short a space for doing anything.

All the real business of the whole life had to be crowded into these few hours, if possible.