on his father's
forehead.

"Not quite so hot, dad," he said.

"How dah you, sir! It's your rank mutinous obstinacy that makes you say
so. Take away that nasty hot paw."

Joe went to the mantelpiece, took a large square bottle of
eau-de-Cologne, removed the stopper, and once more drew out his father's
pocket-handkerchief, moistened it with the scent, and softly applied it
to the sufferer's forehead.

"Confound you!" cried the Major. "Will you leave me alone, sir, or am I
to get up and fetch my cane to you?"

"What do they make eau-de-Cologne of, father?" said Joe, coolly. "Does
it come from a spring like all those nasty mineral waters you take?"

"It's insufferable!" panted the Major.

"Time you had a drink, father," said Joe, quietly.

"It is not, sir. I take that medicine at eleven o'clock, military time.
It wants quite half-an-hour to that yet. You want to be off to play
with that idle young scoundrel of Pendarve's, I suppose; but I wish you
to stay here till it is eleven. Do you hear that, sir? You disobey me
if you dare."

"Five minutes past eleven now, dad," said Joe, after a glance at the
clock over the chimney-piece.

"It's not, sir," cried the Major, turning his head quickly to look for
himself, and then wincing from pain. "That clock's wrong. It's a
wretched cheap fraud, and never did keep time. Fast! Nearly an hour
fast!"

"Said it was the best timekeeper in Cornwall only yesterday," said Joe
to himself, as he went to a side table on which stood a couple of
bottles, a glass, and water-jug.

Here the boy busied himself for a few moments, with his father frowning
and watching him angrily, and looking, in spite of his pain-distorted
countenance, pallid look and sunken cheeks, a fine, handsome,
middle-aged man.

The next minute Joe was coming back with a tumbler in his hand, and
stirring it with a little glass rod.

"Here you are, dad. Shall I hoist you up while you tip it off?"

"No, sir; I can sit up. How much quinine did you put in?"

"Usual dose, father."

"Ho! How much lemon juice?"

"Wineglass full, and filled up with spring water."

Major Jollivet made an effort to sit up, but sank back again with a
groan.

Joe might have smiled, but he did not. He could justly have said
triumphantly: "There, I knew you could not manage it!" but he calmly
drew a chair to the side of the couch, stood the glass within reach of
his father's hand, and then went behind his head, force