"I must seem an ill-conditioned beast, I'm afraid, doctor; but the fact is--well, I have been worried lately, and this ridiculous accident hasn't tended to soothe me."

The doctor nodded.

"Life's too short for worry," he said, with the wisdom of age.

"No, you're right; nothing matters!" a.s.sented Mr. Vernon. "Well, I'm glad I can get up to-morrow. I'll clear out of here as soon as possible."

"I shouldn't hurry," remarked Doctor Spence. "They're glad enough to have you."

Vernon nodded impatiently.

"So they say--the boy's been in here this morning--but that's nonsense, of course."

On his way down the steep village street the doctor met Nell coming up, with her quick, bright step, and he stopped the gray cob to speak to her.

"Well, Miss Nell," he said, with a smile twinkling in his keen eyes as they scanned the beautiful face with the dark tendrils of hair blown across her brow, beneath her old sailor hat, the clear gray eyes shining like crystal, the red lips parted slightly with the climb. "Just left your interesting patient. He'll come down to-morrow. Don't let him f.a.g himself; and, see here, Nell, try and amuse him."

The gray eyes opened still wider, then grew thoughtful and doubtful, and the doctor laughed.

"Rather difficult, eh?" he said, reading her thoughts. "Well, I should say it was somewhat of a large order. But you can play draughts or cat's-cradle with him, or read, or play the piano. That's the kind of thing he wants. There's something on his mind, and that's worse than having a splint on his arm, believe me, Nell."

Nell nodded.

"I thought--that is, I fancied--he looked as if he were in trouble," she said musingly. "Poor man!"

"Oh, I don't know that he wants your pity," remarked the doctor dryly.

"As a rule, when a man's got something on his mind, he has put it there himself."

"That does not make it any the better to have," said Nell absently.

"True, Queen Solomon!" he returned banteringly. "There's not much on your mind, I should imagine?"

Nell laughed, and her frank eyes laughed, too, as she met the quizzical, admiring gaze of the sharp old eyes.

"What should there be, Doctor Spence?" she responded.

"What, indeed?" he said. "May it be many a day before the black ox treads on your foot, my dear!"

With a nod, he sent the cob on again, and Nell continued her climb.

Something on his mind! She wondered what it was. Had some one he cared for died? But if that were so, he would be in mourning. Perhaps he had lost his money, as her father had done? Well, anyway, she was sorry for him.

It need scarcely be said that Mrs. Lorton did not permit the interesting stranger to move from bed to sitting room without a fuss. The most elaborate preparations were made by Molly, under her mistress'

supervision. The sofa was wheeled to the window, a blanket was warmed and placed over the sofa, so that the patient might be infolded in it; a gla.s.s of brandy and water was placed on a small table, in case he should feel faint, and a couple of huge walking sticks were ready for the support of the patient--as if he had broken his leg as well as his arm.

"No, remember, please, Eleanor, that there must be no noise; absolute quiet, Doctor Spence insisted on. He was most emphatic about the 'absolute.' Pull down that blind, Molly; nothing is so trying to an invalid as a glare of sunlight--and close the window first. There must be no draft, for a chill in such a case as this might prove fatal.

Fatal! I wonder whether it would be better to light a fire?"

"It is very hot, mamma," ventured Nell, who had viewed the closing of the window with dismay.

"It may seem hot to you, who are in robust, not to say vulgar, health; but to one in Mr. Vernon's condition----"

At this moment he was heard coming down the stairs. He walked firmly though slowly, and it was evident to Nell that he was trying to look as little like an invalid as possible. He had dressed himself with the a.s.sistance of d.i.c.k, who walked behind with a pillow--which he made as if to throw at Nell, who pa.s.sed quickly through the hall as they descended--and, though he looked pale and wan, Mr. Drake Vernon held himself erect, like a soldier, and began to make light of his accident, and succeeded in concealing any sign of the irritation which he felt when Mrs. Lorton fluttered forward with the two sticks and the blanket.

"Thank you--thank you very much; but I don't need them. Put it on? No, I think I'd better not. I'm quite warm." He looked round the carefully closed room--d.i.c.k's complaining "phew!" was almost audible behind him.

"No, I won't have any brandy, thanks."

"Are you sure, quite sure, you do not feel faint? I know what it is to rise from a sick bed for the first time, Mr. Vernon, and I can enter into your feelings perfectly."

"Not at all--not at all; I mean that I'm not at all faint," he said hastily; "and I'm quite strong, quite."

"Let me see you comfortably range," said Mrs. Lorton, who was persuaded that she had hit upon a French word for "arranged." "Then I will get you some beef tea. I have made it with my own hands."

"It's to be hoped not!" said d.i.c.k devoutly, as she fluttered out.

"Molly's beef tea is bad enough; but mamma's----What shall I do with the pillow?"

"Well, you might swallow it, my dear boy," said Mr. Vernon, with a short laugh. "Anything but put it under me. Good heavens! Any one would think I was dying of consumption! But it is really very kind."

"All right; I'll take it upstairs again," said d.i.c.k cheerfully. But he met Nell in the pa.s.sage. There was the sound of a thud, a clear, low voice expostulating, and a girl's footstep on the stairs, as Nell, smoothing her hair, carried up the pillow.

When she came down Mrs. Lorton met her.

"Get some salt, Eleanor, and take it in to Mr. Vernon. And please say, if he should ask for me, that I'm making him some calf's-foot jelly."

Nell took in the salt. Mr. Vernon rose from the sofa on which he had seated himself, and bowed with a half-impatient, half-regretful air.

"I'm too ashamed for words," he said. "Why did you trouble? The beef tea is all right."

"It's no trouble," said Nell. "Are you comfortable?"

"Quite--quite," he replied; but for the life of him he could not help glancing at the window.

Nell suppressed a smile.

"Isn't it rather hot?" she said.

"Now you mention it, I--I think it is, rather," he a.s.sented. "I'll open the window."

"No, no," said Nell. "I'll do it; you'll hurt your arm."

She opened the window.

"If--if there was a chair," he said hesitatingly. "I'm not used to a sofa--and--I'm afraid you'll think me very ungrateful! Let me get the chair. Thanks, thanks!" as she swiftly pulled the sofa out of the way and put an easy-chair in its place.

"You see, it will be a change to sit up," he said apologetically.

Nell nodded. She quite understood his dislike of the part of interesting invalid.

"And there's really nothing the matter with me, don't you know," he said earnestly; "nothing but this arm, which doesn't exactly lame me. Won't you sit down?"