in
the manner of both patient and nurse.

The room itself was indicative of the youthful and unlearned character
of its owner. A box of chocolates occupied an important position on
the writing-table, some envelopes stuffed with dress patterns lay upon
a chair. There was a large collection of novels which Jane did not
often read, and a much larger collection of illustrated books and
papers which she and Peter thoroughly enjoyed. A favourite parrot, who
never could be induced to talk, sulked in a cage and had a great deal
of affection expended upon him. The remains of the guild work which
Mrs. Wrottesley had not finished occupied the greater part of the sofa,
and Jane meant to ask her maid to run up all the little blouses and
petticoats, as she herself was too frightfully busy to undertake them.
An immense number of photographs ornamented the mantelpiece and were
mixed up, without attempt at classification, with curious odds and ends
which Peter had sent home from South Africa during the war time. Some
riding-whips hung on a rack on the wall, side by side with a few
strange sketches in oil-colours of Jane's favourite hunters, painted by
herself. Peter thought the sketches were among the best he had ever
seen, and even Jane was rather pleased with them.

'I 'll take the guild work off the sofa,' she said, 'and that will give
you more room.' She settled his head comfortably upon the pillows and
turned to Peter for an explanation or an account of the accident.

'I don't know much about it,' said Peter, giving his head a shake.
'The Wrottesley boy and I were going out fishing early, and we found
Toffy sitting in the middle of the road with a motor-car hung in a
tree.'

'You see,' said Toffy, in his grave, low voice, 'I have made up my mind
for some time past to travel by night because it saves hotel bills.'

'But it doesn't cost you much to sleep in your own bed, Toffy,'
protested Jane.

'No,' said the young man, looking at her with admiration; 'I hadn't
thought of that. I have dismissed my chauffeur,' he went on, 'because
he was always wanting things. I said to him, "My good man, get
anything you want if you can get tick for it." He was a maniac about
ready money. I got on all right for the first forty miles or so after
leaving London, and I was going on splendidly when my motor, to gain
some private end, went mad. How do these things happen? Thank 'e,
Jane,' as Jane fastened a silk handkerchief to serve