"You look half dead this minute!" she cried, pushing him down on to the sofa by the hand that she had taken. "Sit down for gracious sake!"
Again the door opened, and from without the Doctor's deep voice said:
"Tishy! Come here a minute, I want you."
Larry, sitting on the sofa, watching his wet boots steaming, was conscious of a sense of consolation. It was something to know that these kind people cared. He heard the light chink of glasses, and looked round, and saw Tishy coming into the room, bearing a tray, on which were a cake, and wineglasses, and a bottle of champagne.
"Dad says he prescribes a little stimulant!" said Tishy, gaily, "the wire's cut——"
She took the cork out of the bottle with a strong, capable hand, and filled two glasses. "Drink that at once now! And I'll drink one drop myself—just for luck! Here now! Here's to the next time, and you at the top of the poll!"
"Sounds as if I were a bear!" said Larry, with a pale smile at her, as he lifted the glass, "Clink!" He touched her glass, and then drank the wine thirstily.
"I was just about cooked," he said apologetically. "Awfully good of you and the Doctor——"
"Ah, don't be talking nonsense!" interrupted Tishy. "Here, show me your glass——"
The glasses were very large and old fashioned; she refilled his, brimmingly. "Now, sit down, and drink that, and eat a bit of cake. Not a word out of you now! Only do as you're told!"