of my ankle and cauterised the wound; after that he
injected something above my heart. I believe he was not satisfied with
my pulse, for he brought me a stiff brandy-peg to drink. My hands were
stone cold; he chafed them in his. In the meantime my leg swelled and
looked all colours. It was most alarming yet he would not let me think
of it. He, who is usually so silent, talked all the time of a thousand
things that had nothing to do with snakes and their deadliness. He even
made a joke or two. Once he wanted to know if I wanted any one--a lady
to sit by me and cheer me up. But when I couldn't have Mother, and you
were away, I wanted no one else, and told him so. I think he was rather
surprised that I wasn't hysterical or troublesome; that I bore all that
cutting about without uttering a sound. Every now and then he felt my
pulse, and as time passed his face took on a wonderful look. You would
hardly have believed he was the same man. The hardness was all melted
and broken up, his eyes were so kind--he talked so pleasantly.

"After some time I asked if he thought I was well enough to go home, but
he preferred to keep me longer. He thought I would have to be watched
for a bit and looked after. Later he explained that he was afraid of
shock. I had been through such an anxious time. He carried me to his
drawing-room, and while I rested on the sofa he diverted me with music.
He played the most exquisite music, and sang me ever so many songs.
Really, Joyce, nobody knows Captain Dalton. He has most extraordinary
depths in his nature of which I have had only a fleeting glimpse."

"Why is he so antagonistic to people as a rule?" Joyce wondered aloud.

"He has had some great disappointment in his life. Someone has smashed
up all his ideals and beliefs, or he would never be so suspicious and
unfriendly. He is that; for who knows him a bit better today than five
months ago when he first came among us?"

"_You_ do, certainly, Honey!"

"Not even I. I have been favoured with only a glimpse of his inner self.
There are stores of wonderful goodness all hidden away underneath the
nastiness and ill-humour he shows to the world!"

"Do go on and tell me the rest," urged Joyce, excitedly. "What a fearful
experience!"

"It was. I thought of Mother and her grief were I to die,--of my
father's desolation. They are both so wrapped up in me, having no other
child, you know. I pictured myself lying dead and covered with
flowers--you have no