be all right in an hour or two.

"Well, you'd better let me take your temperature," said Griffiths.

"It's quite unnecessary," answered Philip irritably.

"Come on."

Philip put the thermometer in his mouth. Griffiths sat on the side of the
bed and chatted brightly for a moment, then he took it out and looked at
it.

"Now, look here, old man, you must stay in bed, and I'll bring old Deacon
in to have a look at you."

"Nonsense," said Philip. "There's nothing the matter. I wish you wouldn't
bother about me."

"But it isn't any bother. You've got a temperature and you must stay in
bed. You will, won't you?"

There was a peculiar charm in his manner, a mingling of gravity and
kindliness, which was infinitely attractive.

"You've got a wonderful bed-side manner," Philip murmured, closing his
eyes with a smile.

Griffiths shook out his pillow for him, deftly smoothed down the
bedclothes, and tucked him up. He went into Philip's sitting-room to look
for a siphon, could not find one, and fetched it from his own room. He
drew down the blind.

"Now, go to sleep and I'll bring the old man round as soon as he's done
the wards."

It seemed hours before anyone came to Philip. His head felt as if it would
split, anguish rent his limbs, and he was afraid he was going to cry. Then
there was a knock at the door and Griffiths, healthy, strong, and
cheerful, came in.

"Here's Doctor Deacon," he said.

The physician stepped forward, an elderly man with a bland manner, whom
Philip knew only by sight. A few questions, a brief examination, and the
diagnosis.

"What d'you make it?" he asked Griffiths, smiling.

"Influenza."

"Quite right."

Doctor Deacon looked round the dingy lodging-house room.

"Wouldn't you like to go to the hospital? They'll put you in a private
ward, and you can be better looked after than you can here."

"I'd rather stay where I am," said Philip.

He did not want to be disturbed, and he was always shy of new
surroundings. He did not fancy nurses fussing about him, and the dreary
cleanliness of the hospital.

"I can look after him, sir," said Griffiths at once.

"Oh, very well."

He wrote a prescription, gave instructions, and left.

"Now you've got to do exactly as I tell you," said Griffiths. "I'm
day-nurse and night-nurse all in one."

"It's very kind of you, but I shan't want anything," said Philip.

Griffiths put his hand on Philip's forehead, a large cool, dry hand, and
the to