Nell of Shorne Mills

"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."