"He has had them before," explained the doctor. "I will give him something quieting—I can do no more. Each shock brings him closer to the end. It is the most puzzling case on record."
As he was so feeble Mrs. Conroy thought best to send for his nephew, and Homer Bulson was summoned just as he was waking up.
"All right, I'll be over," he said, with a yawn. He did not feel like hurrying, for he was tired, and had been through such an experience before. It was after eight when he at last showed himself.
"You are worse, Uncle Mark," he said, as he took the sufferer's hand.
"Yes, I am worse," was the low answer. "Much worse."
"It is too bad. Hadn't you better try some of that new wine I brought you?"
"Not now, Homer. I feel as if I never cared to eat or drink again." And Mark Horton gave a groan.
"You must not be so downcast, uncle."
"Homer, Gertrude has turned her back upon me!"
"Gertrude!" cried the nephew, very much startled.