"Tell him," he said, "that he can have cocky-leeky soup, boiled cod and oyster sauce, loin of mutton, apple charlotte, and cheese straws—any or all of them he likes."
"Thank you," said the nurse.
Andrew planted himself before the fire.
"A fine story this is to get about!" he exclaimed darkly.
"But surely father must be light-headed," said Mrs. Ramornie.
"Umph," he replied.
He clearly did not consider this a very creditable excuse.
"Or perhaps he is really feeling better," suggested Gertrude.
"Better! A man at death's door one minute—given up by the doctors—and wanting to eat his dinner the next!"