l this kindly remembrance and sympathy, as
something that might be grateful to his patient.

"You've got a tremendous number of friends, Linn, and no mistake," he
said. "Many a great statesman or poet might envy you."

"I suppose it is in the papers?" Lionel asked, without raising his head.

"In one or two of the late editions last evening, and in most of
to-day's papers; but to-morrow it will be all over the country. I have
had several London correspondents here this afternoon."

"All over the country?" Lionel repeated, absently, and then he lay still
for a second or two. "No use--no use!" he moaned, in so low a voice that
Mangan could hardly hear. And then again he looked up wearily.

"Come here, Maurice. I want to--to ask you something. If--if I were to
die--do you think--they would put it in any of the papers abroad?"

"Nonsense--what are you talking about?" Maurice exclaimed, in a
simulated anger. "Talking of dying--because you've got a feverish cold;
that's not like you, Linn! You're not going to frighten your people when
they come up from Winstead, by talking like that?"

"Don't let them come up," was all he said, and shut his eyes again.

Among the callers that afternoon who, learning that Mr. Mangan was
up-stairs, came personally to make inquiries, was Miss Burgoyne, who was
accompanied by her brother.

"What is the matter?" she said, briefly, to Maurice. "One never can
trust what is in the newspapers."

He told her.

"Serious?"

"That depends," he said, in a low voice, as they stood together at the
window. "I hope not. But I suppose the fever will have to run its
course."

"It will be some time before he can be back at the theatre?"

"It will be a very long time. There is some slight congestion of the
throat as well. When he pulls through with the fever, he will most
likely be sent abroad, for rest to his throat."

She considered for a second or two; then she said, with a matter-of-fact
air:

"They needn't make a fuss about that. His throat will be all right. It
is only repeated congestions that seriously affect the membrane; and he
has been exceptionally lucky--or exceptionally strong, perhaps. Who is
his doctor?"

"Dr. Ballardyce."

"Don't know him."

"Then there's Dr. Whitsen."

"Oh, _that's_ all right--_he'll_ do. It's the voice that's the important
thing; the general system must take its chance. Well, tell him I'm very
sorry. I suppose there's nothing one can send him?"

"Thank