The doctor rang the bell, and, on this occasion, did request that Joe might be sent for. Joe came in, and, though he was much steadier than his master, looked as though he also had found some bin of which he had approved.
"Sir Louis wishes to go to bed," said the doctor; "you had better give him your arm."
"Oh, yes; in course I will," said Joe, standing immoveable about half-way between the door and the table.
"I'll just take one more glass of the old port—eh, doctor?" said Sir Louis, putting out his hand and clutching the decanter.
It is very hard for any man to deny his guest in his own house, and the doctor, at the moment, did not know how to do it; so Sir Louis got his wine, after pouring half of it over the table.
"Come in, sir, and give Sir Louis your arm," said the doctor, angrily.
"So I will in course, if my master tells me; but, if you please, Dr Thorne,"—and Joe put his hand up to his hair in a manner that had a great deal more of impudence than reverence in it—"I just want to ax one question: where be I to sleep?"
Now this was a question which the doctor was not prepared to answer on the spur of the moment, however well Janet or Mary might have been able to do so.
"Sleep," said he, "I don't know where you are to sleep, and don't care; ask Janet."
"That's all very well, master—"