"Here," said the girl.
"In your room?"
"Certainly."
"I protest, sir," said the man, sitting up with astonishing access of vigor.
"Nobody protests when Miss Emily commands anything. Here you'll stay, sir!" said Barry, gruffly, as the girl left the room.
The doctor and the sailor soon tucked him away in bed, the admiral looking on. As they undressed him they noticed a long scar across his breast where a shell from Fort Morgan had keeled him over. The doctor examined it critically.
"That was a bad one," he said, touching the wound deftly with his pudgy yet knowing finger. "That'll be the one you spoke of, I take it?"
"Yes, sir," answered the young man; "it's been a long time in healing. I feel the effect of it yet sometimes."
"But you'll get over it in time, young man, I'm thinking," said the kindly little country doctor.
"I hope so, sir."