Kimball, who had
her arm under the girl's neck. A dusky flush in the olive cheeks
told of the returning blood, under the whip of the biting ammonia.
Some few sips of the hot broth the girl was able to take, but she did
not show much life, and, after a close look at her immobile
countenance, and feeling of the cold and listless hands, Cora's
mother said:
"I think we had better put her to bed, and have Dr. Blake look at her
when he comes for Jack."
"Oh, Jack! I had almost forgotten about him!" exclaimed Cora. "We
must go to the depot. It is almost time for his train."
"You have time enough to help me," said her mother, gently. "I think
we must look after her, Cora, at least--"
"Oh, of course, Mother. We can't send her to the hospital,
especially when she seems so refined. She is really--clean!" and Cora
said the word with a true delight in its meaning. She had seen so
many itinerant hawkers of lace who were not and neither were their
wares.
"Oh, she has such a sweet, sweet face," murmured Belle, who was fair,
and who had always longed to be dark.
"Is there a bed ready," Janet asked Mrs. Kimball.
"Yes, Madam, in the blue room." The Kimball family had a habit of
distinguishing chambers by the color of the wall papers.
"That will do. We'll take her there. I think a little rest and food
is all she needs. She looks as though she had walked far to-day.
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