"Luce!"

It was a strange name--the name of a woman, of course. Nell wondered
whether it was his sister--or sweetheart? Perhaps it was his wife?

She waited for some minutes; then she woke Molly, and returned to her
own room.

Drake Vernon was unconscious for some days, and Nell often stole in and
stood beside the bed; sometimes she changed the ice bandages, or gave
him something to drink. He wandered and talked a great deal, but it was
incoherent talk, in which the names of the persons he whispered or
shouted were indistinguishable. On the fourth day he recovered
consciousness, but was terribly weak, and the doctor would not permit
Mrs. Lorton to enter the room.

He put his objection very cleverly.

"I have to think of you, my dear madame," he said. "I don't want two
patients on my hands in the same house. Talk him back into delirium!" he
added to himself.

All these days Mrs. Lorton continued to "hush," Nell went about with a
grave air of suspense, and Dick--it is not given to this historian to
describe the state of mind into which incessant repression drove that
youth.

On the sixth day, bored to death, and somewhat curious, he strolled into
the sick room. Drake Vernon, propped up by pillows, was partaking of
beef tea with every sign of distaste.

"How are you getting on, sir?" asked Dick.