quietly,--

"Are her knees broke, Tom?"

Lady Cicely uttered a little scream, but instantly suppressed it.

"No, my lord," said Staines, smartly; "only rubbed a bit. You can go to
sleep, my lord. I'll take care of the mare."

"All right," said his lordship; and composed himself to slumber.

Dr. Staines, at the earnest request of Lady Cicely, stayed all night;
and in course of the day advised her how to nurse the patient, since
both physician and surgeon had done with him.

He said the patient's brain might be irritable for some days, and no
women in silk dresses or crinoline, or creaking shoes, must enter the
room. He told her the nurse was evidently a clumsy woman, and would
be letting things fall. She had better get some old soldier used to
nursing. "And don't whisper in the room," said he; "nothing irritates
them worse; and don't let anybody play a piano within hearing; but in a
day or two you may try him with slow and continuous music on the flute
or violin if you like. Don't touch his bed suddenly; don't sit on it or
lean on it. Dole sunlight into his room by degrees; and when he can bear
it, drench him with it. Never mind what the old school tell you. About
these things they know a good deal less than nothing."

Lady Cicely received all this like an oracle.

The cure was telegraphed to Dr. Barr, and he was requested to settle the