Nell, of Shorne Mills | Page 9

by its whiteness, by the weary, wistful lines about the lips and eyes.
"I wonder who he is?" she asked herself, conscious that she had never
seen any one like him, that he was in some way different to any one of
the men she had hitherto met.
As she walked slowly, thoughtfully down the road, a strange feeling
came upon her; it was as if she had touched, if only with the finger tips,
the fringe of the great unknown world.
The doctor, breaking away from the lengthy recountal of Mrs. Lorton,
went upstairs to the spare room, where still sat Mr. Drake Vernon on
the edge of the bed, very white, but very self-contained.

"How do you do, doctor?" he said quietly. "I've come a cropper and
knocked my head and broken some of my bones. If you'll be so
good----"
"Take off your coat. My good sir, why didn't you let them help you to
undress?" broke in the old man, with the curtness of the country doctor,
who, as a rule, is no respecter of persons.
"I've given these good people trouble enough already," was the reply.
"Thanks; no, you don't hurt me--not more than can be helped. And I'm
not going to faint. Thanks, thanks."
He got undressed and into bed, and the doctor "went over" him. As he
got to the injured arm, Mr. Vernon drew his signet ring from his finger
and slipped it in his pocket.
"Rather nasty knock on the head; broken arm--compound fracture,
unfortunately."
"Oh! just patch me up so that I can get away at once, will you?"
The old man shook his head.
"Sorry, Mr. Vernon; but that is rather too large an order. Frankly, you
have knocked yourself about rather more seriously than you think. The
head----And you are not a particularly 'good patient,' I'm afraid. Been
living rather--rapidly, eh?"
Vernon nodded.
"I've been living all the time," was the grim assent.
"I thought so. And you pay the usual penalty. Nature is inexorable, and
never lets a man off with the option of a fine. If one of my fishermen
had injured himself as you have done, I could let him do what he
pleased; but you will have to remain here, in this room--or, at any rate,
in this house--for some little time."
"Impossible!" said Vernon. "I am a stranger to these people. I can't

trespass on their good nature; I've been nuisance enough already----"
"Oh, nonsense," retorted the doctor calmly. "We are not savages in
these parts. They'd enjoy nursing and taking care of you. The good lady
of the house is just dying for some little excitement like this. It's a quiet
place; you couldn't be in a better; and whether you could or couldn't
doesn't matter, for you've got to stay here for the present, unless you
want brain fever and the principal part in a funeral."
Drake Vernon set his lips tight, then shrugged his shoulders, and in
silence watched the doctor's preparations for setting the arm.
It is a painful operation, but during its accomplishment the patient gave
no sign, either facial or vocal, of the agony endured. The doctor softly
patted the splintered arm and looked at him keenly.
"Been in the service, Mr. Vernon?" he said.
Vernon glanced at him sharply.
"How did you know that?" he demanded reluctantly.
"By the way you held your arm," replied the doctor. "Was in the
service myself, when a young army doctor. Oh, don't be afraid; I am
not going to ask questions; and--and, like my tribe, I am as discreet as
an owl. Now, I'll just give you a sleeping draft, and will look in in the
evening, to see if it has taken effect; and to-morrow, if you haven't
brain fever, you will be on the road to recovery. I'm candid, because I
want you to understand that if you worry yourself----"
"Make the draft a strong one; I'm accustomed to narcotics," interrupted
Vernon quietly.
"Opium, or chloral, or what?"
"Chloral," was the reply.
"Right. Comfortable?"

"Oh, yes. Wait a moment. I was hunting with the Devon and Somerset
to-day. I know scarcely any one--not one of the people, I may say;
but--well, I don't want a fuss. Perhaps you won't mind keeping my
accident, and my presence here to yourself?"
"Certainly," said the doctor. "There is no friend--relative--you would
like sent for?"
"Good Lord, no!" responded Mr. Vernon. "I shall have to get away in a
day or two."
"Will you?" grunted the old doctor to himself, as he went down the
stairs.
The day passed slowly. The little house was filled with an air of
suppressed excitement, which was kept going by Mrs. Lorton, who,
whenever Nell or Molly moved, appeared from unexpected places,
attired in a tea gown, and