Caroline could not think. She was in a dull, dreary state of
consternation, and all she could dwell on was the immediate need of
the moment, soothing Jock's terrors, and, what was almost worse, his
irritable rejection of the beverages she could offer him, and trying
to relieve him by rubbing and hot applications. If ever she could
look into Armine's room, she was filled with still greater dismay,
even though a sweet, patient smile always met her, and a resolute
endeavour to make the best of it.
"It-—does-—not-—make-—much-—difference," gasped Armine. "One would
not like anything."
John came out in a character no one could have expected. He showed
himself a much better nurse, and far more full of resource than the
traveller. It was he who bethought him of keeping a kettle in the
room over the inevitable charcoal, so as slightly to mitigate the
chill of the air, or the fumes of the charcoal, which were equally
perilous and distressing to the labouring lungs. He was tender and
handy in lifting, tall and strong, so as to be efficient in
supporting, and then Armine and he understood one another. They had
never been special companions; John had too much of the Kencroft
muscularity about him to accord with a delicate, imaginative being
like Armine, but they respected one another, and made common cause,
and John had more than once been his little cousin's protector.
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