"My dear, I have no strength,—none whatever."
"Living on beef-tea and gruel makes anybody feel rather weak, I suppose. Mrs. Stirring says so. You will be able to try a little piece of chicken to-morrow."
"Mrs. Stirring's bread sauce!" The Colonel shuddered.
"Oh, she will do her best now you are not well. And when you are able to get out of doors, you will be quite hungry again."
"I have no appetite. None whatever," groaned the Colonel.
"Perhaps a little starving does no harm," hazarded Dorothea. "If it does not go on too long."
"My dear, you don't know what you are talking about. You don't understand in the least. If Mrs. Stirring knew how to cook—but I have such a sense of emptiness. I feel quite ill for want of food. It is a most distressing sensation."
"He means that he is getting hungry again," thought Dorothea. "That is a good thing."
But she knew that she must not venture to congratulate him.
"I dare say it will go off in a day or two, father," she suggested. "The doctor says you are really pulled down."