"It does no look as if they could be got rid of by a message."
"I guess he's fit to see them," Carroll answered, "We'll hold a levee. If he'd only let me, I'd like to pose him a bit."
Mrs. Nairn, with Evelyn's assistance, did so instead, rearranging the cushions about the man, in spite of his confused and half-indignant protests; and during the next half-hour the room was generally full. People walked in, made sympathetic inquiries, or exchanged cheerful banter, until Mrs. Nairn forcibly dismissed the last of them. After this, she declared that Vane must go to sleep, and paying no heed to his assertion that he had not the least wish to do so, she led her remaining companions away.
A couple of hours had passed when she handed Evelyn a large tumbler containing a preparation of beaten eggs and milk.
"Ye might take him this and ask if he would like anything else," she said. "I'm weary of the stairs and I would no trust Minnie. She's handiest at spilling things."
Carroll grinned.
"It's the third and, I'd better say firmly, the limit."
Then he assumed an aggrieved expression as Evelyn moved off with the tray.
"I can't see why I couldn't have gone. I think I've discharged my duties as nurse satisfactorily."
"I canna help ye thinking," Mrs. Nairn informed him. "But I would point out that ye have now and then been wrong."