victim was seated in the doctor's big leather arm-chair, looking
very perturbed and sorry for himself, while Jack and Betty hovered near,
alternately offering suggestions for his relief.

"If you would lie down on the sofa--"

"Or have a cushion to your back--"

"Or a cup of tea--"

"Or wine--"

"Or sal-volatile--"

"Shall I bathe your head with eau de Cologne?"

"Would you put up your feet on a chair?"

The victim had apparently been too much engrossed in his own self-pity
to take any notice of the separate suggestions, but now their
reiteration had an irritating effect, for with startling unexpectedness
he thrust forward his big, flushed face, and shouted a loud refusal.

"No, no, no, no! Do you want to kill me at once? I only want rest and
a chance to get my breath again. Tea? Wine? Faugh! I hope I know
better than that after the agonies I have had to go through. Sal-
volatile! Do you take me for an hysterical old woman? Feet up? Ay,
young sir, I expect I shall have a longer dose of that position than I
care for after this adventure! As if I had not had enough of it
already--five weeks on my chair in the summer, three in the spring, two
months last winter."

From his own account he was evidently a great sufferer, yet in
appearance he was stout and healthy enough. Jack made a swift
diagnosis, and said politely--

"Gout, I suppose, sir? Gout in your feet?"

"And what makes you suppose anything of the kind, sir? I don't carry a
label to advertise my ailments that I am aware of!" cried the old
gentleman, with an irascibility which convinced his audience that he was
on the point of another attack. Then suddenly he looked past his two
questioners, saw Jill's peering face, and went off at another tangent.

"Oh ho! What's this? I saw you outside in the street. What are you
doing here, may I ask? Come in for a treat to see the rest of the
show?"

"It's my house! I live here!" replied Jill grandiloquently. "I am
sorry you are not well. Would you like us to whistle for a cab to take
you home? It's always nicest to be at home when one is ill."

It was all very well for Jack to frown dissent. Jill was inclined to
think that the truest wisdom lay in getting the old gentleman out of the
way before her father's return, and so escape with one scolding instead
of two. She raised her eyebrows, and mouthed the dumb question, "Will
you tell?" while the victim continued his groans and lamentati