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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

She came to herself, opened her
eyes with a faint smile, and tried to raise herself, but fell back
helpless, and closed her eyes again.
"I believe I am hurt!" she murmurmed. "I think Larkie must have
fallen!"
Donal would have carried her, but she moaned so, that he gave up the
idea at once. Davie was gone for help; it would be better to wait!
He pulled off his coat and laid it over her, then kneeling, raised
her head a little from the damp ground upon his arm. She let him do
as he pleased, but did not open her eyes.
They had not long to wait. Several came running, among them lord
Forgue. He fell beside his cousin on his knees, and took her hand in
his. She neither moved nor spoke. As instead of doing anything he
merely persisted in claiming her attention, Donal saw it was for him
to give orders.
"My lady is much hurt," he said: "one of you go at once for the
doctor; the others bring a hand-barrow--I know there is one about
the place. Lay the squab of a sofa on it, and make haste. Let
mistress Brookes know."
"Mind your own business," said Forgue.
"Do as Mr. Grant tells you," said lady Arctura, without opening her
eyes.
The men departed running. Forgue rose from his knees, and walked
slowly to a little distance, where he stood gnawing his lip.
"My lord," said Donal, "please run and fetch a little brandy for her
ladyship. She has fainted.


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