He took my grandfather in his arms like a baby--it
struck me sharply that he must have grown thin and light for Neil to
lift him so easily--and put him on the couch.
"Whisht, your Ladyship, whisht!" he said to my grandmother. "Fetch me a
drop o' water and a sponge, Miss Bawn. The cut's not a deep one. There's
nothin' wrong with his Lordship, and we needn't frighten the life out o'
him, wirrasthruin', when he comes back to himself. Don't tell any of the
women, Miss Bawn."
I got him the water as quickly and quietly as I could, and Neil washed
the blood away. The cut proved, indeed, not to be serious; but it seemed
an age before my grandfather's eyes opened and he looked from Neil's
face to my grandmother's.
"Have I been ill?" he asked.
"Just a bit of a wakeness, your Lordship," Neil said. "But sure, you're
finely now."
I did not dare come near, but waited out of sight, dreading the time
when my grandfather should remember. Presently I heard him ask for me.
"Is Bawn there?" he asked. "Where are you, child?"
I came forward and Neil withdrew. I heard the library door close behind
him.
"Poor little Bawn!" my grandfather said tenderly, "poor little Bawn! We
must bear whatever there is to come together, we three.
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