'Oh, my lord, if it had been more! If that claret was but safe, I should
feel I had done my duty,' said Simmonds, almost overcome, but giving
place to Mr. Hugh Martindale, who, just released from a chain of buckets
in the kitchen yard, was coming up to wring his cousin's hand, say there
seemed no more to be done, and repeat his congratulations on the safety
of life and limb. But a fresh alarm arose, lest the fire might extend to
the stabling; and in watching the horses led out, the spreading of wet
tarpaulins on the roof, the engines playing on the burning mass in
the house, and the flames rising with diminishing fierceness in the
intervals of the bursts of steam, there was such intense excitement that
no one could think of aught but the sight before them.

At last there was a touch on Lord Martindale's arm; a message from the
gardener's house that he must come directly: Mrs. Nesbit was in a fit.

The morning dewiness and calmness of the garden had a curious effect,
as they walked hastily through it, out of sight of the confusion on the
lawn; everything looked so blue and pale, especially Violet, who came
down to meet them.

'I have sent for Mr. Legh,' she said. 'It is very terrible. She is quite
insensible, but--'

She broke off suddenly. Theodora had sat down, untied her bonnet, then
tried to rise, but tottered, and sank senseless on the floor.

Her father lifted her, so as to place her with her head on Violet's lap.
Violet removed the bonnet, the hair came with it, burnt off in masses,
the very eyelashes and brows were singed, the forehead, cheeks, and neck
frightfully reddened and blistered. Lord Martindale took her hands
to chafe them: they were bleeding, and purple from bruises, the arms
scorched and burnt--injuries overlooked in the excitement, but ready to
repay themselves after her five hours' violent and incessant exertion.
It was a frightfully long swoon; and her father, almost in despair,
had sent a second messenger for medical aid before Violet could look
up consolingly, and direct his attention to the signs of returning
animation. She presently half opened her eyes, perceived in whose arms
she lay, and who was bending over her--she heard his fond words; but
reviving no further, closed her eyes, without attempting to speak.

Lord Martindale could no longer delay going up-stairs. There the scene
was most distressing; there was complete insensibility, with a tendency
to convulsive movement, a condition