In the meantime the wounded man was carried to the mansion house and laid upon a cot in one of the parlors.

Presently Edith heard wheels roll up to the door and stop.  She looked up.  It was the carriage of the surgeon, whom she saw alight and walk up the steps.  She went to meet him, composedly as she could, and conducted him to the door of the sick-room, which he entered.  Edith remained in the hall, softly walking up and down, and sometimes pausing to listen.

After a little, the door opened.  It was only Solomon Weismann, who asked for warm water, lint, and a quantity of old linen.  These Edith quickly supplied, and then remained alone in the hall, walking up and down, and pausing to listen as before; once she heard a deep shuddering groan, as of one in mortal extremity, and her own heart and frame thrilled to the sound, and then all was still as before.

An hour, two hours, passed, and then the door opened again, and Edith caught a glimpse of the surgeon, with his shirt sleeves pushed above his elbows, and a pair of bloody hands.  It was Solomon who opened the door to ask for a basin of water, towels and soap, for the doctor to wash.  Edith furnished these also.

Half an hour passed, and the door opened a third time, and the doctor himself came out, fresh and smiling.  His countenance and his manner were in every respect encouraging.

“Come into the drawing-room a moment, if you please, Miss Edith, I want to speak with you.”

Edith desired nothing more earnestly just at that moment.

“Well, doctor—­your patient?” she inquired, anxiously.

“Will do very well!  Will do very well!  That is, if he be properly attended to, and that is what I wished to speak to you about, Miss Edith.  I have seen you near sick-beds before this, my dear, and know that I can better trust you than any one to whom I could at present apply.  I intend to install you as his nurse, my dear.  When a life depends upon your care, you will waive any scruples you might otherwise feel, Miss Edith, I am sure!  You will have your old maid, Jenny, to assist you, and Solomon at hand, in case of an emergency.  But I intend to delegate my authority, and leave my directions with you.”

“Yes, doctor, I will do my very best for your patient.”

“I am sure of that.  I am sure of that.”

Edith watched by his cot through all the night, fanning him softly, keeping his chest covered from the air, giving him his medicine at the proper intervals, and putting drink to his lips when he needed it.  But never trusted her eyelids to close for a moment.  Jenny shared her vigil by nodding in an easy chair; and Solomon Weismann, a young medical student, by sleeping soundly on the wooden settee in the hall.  So passed the night.  After midnight, to Edith’s great relief, his fever began to abate, and he sank into a sweet sleep.  In the morning Solomon roused himself, and came in and relieved Edith’s watch, and attended to the wants of the patient, while she went to her room to bathe her face and weary eyes.