Could you close this place up for a
week?"
"Certainly!" said Miss Toland, with Spartan promptness, beginning to
enjoy the desperate demand of the hour.
"And could you take that poor child somewhere, out of the public eye?"
"I will indeed, Jim!"
"Well, that's the best way to do. You're a trump, Aunt Sanna! I will say
that Miss Page is naturally prostrated, and gone away to friends."
"Jim, has that poor boy a chance?"
"A chance? No. No; he died instantly. It was straight through the brain.
Yes, terrible--naturally. Now, will you take what you need--"
"Instantly!" said Miss Toland, with a shudder. "Oh, Jim, I'm so glad
you're a doctor," she added weakly, clutching his arm, "and so cold
blooded and reliable!"
"I'm glad I was here," Jim answered simply. "Hello, look at poor little
Miss Page! She's fainted!"
CHAPTER VIII
It was Christmas time before Julia saw Doctor Studdiford again, and then
it was but for a few minutes. Christmas Eve was wet and blowy out of
doors, but the assembly hall of The Alexander looked warm and bright;
there were painfully made garlands of green looped about the windows,
bells of red paper hung from all the chandeliers, and on the stage an
enormous Christmas tree glittered with colour and light.
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