Edward’s cheeks began to colour again.
“Yes; but what do you think? We want a strong fellow, not a fireside servant.”
“Quite right, but— Here, take off your coat, my man.”
Edward’s livery coat seemed to fly off, and displayed his white arms with the shirt-sleeves rolled right above the elbows, spotted a little with rouge from plate-cleaning.
“Hum! ha!” said the doctor, taking one arm and doubling it up so that the biceps rose in a big lump. “Hard.—Stand still.”
He laid one hand upon the man’s chest and thumped it in different places; laid his ear to it and pressed it close.
“Now breathe.—Again.—Now harder.—Hold your breath.”
Then he rose and twisted the man round, and listened at his back between the shoulder-blades before making him open his mouth, and ended by looking into his eyes, while the father and son watched him.
“Ha! that will do,” said the doctor dryly. “Sleep well, I suppose?”
“Oh yes, sir.”