"Always," assented the patient listlessly.
"Ye-s; it's a bad thing for most men; a very bad thing for you, I should say. By the way, if you should go downstairs, you must keep quiet——"
"Good heavens, you don't suppose I intend to dance or sing!" broke in Vernon, with a smile, of irritation.
"No; I mean that you must sit still and avoid any exertion. You'll find that you are not capable of much in the way of dancing or singing," he added, with a short laugh. "Try and amuse yourself, and don't—worry."
"Thanks," said Mr. Vernon.
Then, after a pause, he added:
"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!" assented Mr. Vernon. "Well, I'm glad I can get up to-morrow. I'll clear out of here as soon as possible."