Both Dorothy and the woman worked over Miette--one chafing her hands and the other dropping cold water between the pale lips.
Finally, while the officer was talking over the telephone, Miette opened her eyes.
Instantly she threw her arms around Dorothy.
“Oh, take me away!” she begged, “don’t let that awful man come near me--let us go!” and she tried to raise herself on the arm of the bench.
“Now be quiet,” commanded the woman, in a gentle voice, “you are all right--no one is going to hurt you.”
But Miette’s eyes stared wildly at Dorothy. The latter was smoothing the black hair that fell in confusion over the temples of the sick girl.
“We will go soon, dear,” said Dorothy, “but you must get strong first. Do you feel better?”
“Yes, I am all right. Do let us go!” and the French girl sat upright in spite of all efforts to keep her head down, which is the important position to be maintained when the face is pale.
“Now dearie,” said the woman, “you must try to be quiet. The doctor will be here directly, and if he says you may go home we will help you all we can.”
Dorothy thanked the woman--she even felt inclined to forgive the old father, so timely was the attention that the daughter gave--perhaps the old man knew no better: perhaps he was afraid of losing the position that he had held many years. As if divining Dorothy’s thoughts the woman said:
“I hope you will hold no ill will to father, he is old and not able to do things as he should. If he was rough I hope you will excuse him.”
“He was rough,” answered Dorothy, “and I did feel that he had done us a grave injustice. But since you are so kind--”
“Here comes the doctor. For goodness sake don’t tell him anything against father,” interrupted the woman, just as a gentleman in an automobile outfit entered the place.
“Well, I declare!” he exclaimed, “what’s all this?”
“My friend fainted,” said Dorothy, before anyone else had time to speak, “and we are trying to revive her. We are anxious to start off for North Birchland in time for the five-twenty train, we thought we had better have your assistance.”
“I’ll tell you how it was, Doc,” started the police officer, in an unsteady voice. “These girls--”
“Dad, do be quiet,” interrupted the daughter. “The doctor has no time to listen to stories. He wants to see what the young girl needs.”