"Sorry to trouble you, Handyside," said Christopher with a faltering smile, "but the interfering Caw insisted."
The newcomer glanced a question at the servant.
"No, sir," said Caw. "No attack, but—"
"Have his bed made ready," interrupted the doctor, softly, and Caw left the room.
"I've been overdoing it a little," the invalid said, apologetically, "but it was in doing things that had to be done. I'll be all right presently, my friend…. I say, Handyside, I want you and your daughter to come along and take supper with me to-night. I haven't seen Marjorie for more than a week."
"She has been away at her sister's for a few days. Only came home an hour ago." Handyside let go his patient's wrist and moved over to the hearth.
As he stared into the fire his face betrayed disappointment and grave concern, but when he turned it was cheerful enough.
"Yes, Craig, you've overdone it to-day. However, I'll try to forgive you.
Only I'd like you to see Carslaw again—to-morrow."
"He can't do anything more for me—anything you can't do."
"Possibly not. Still, we must remember that I've been out of harness for five years."