The door had been left open in case he needed anything during the night, and now his voice greeted them before they reached it.
"Hello," it called imperatively. "I want to know something."
"All right," said Mrs. Irving sunnily, pushing the door open and advancing toward the patient, while Betty lingered a little in the background. "You're not the only one. How are you feeling this morning?"
"All right—fine," he amended, as his eager eye caught sight of Betty. "Never was feeling better in my life. Decidedly grateful for being allowed to live at all—when there are so many beautiful things to look at," this with so direct and ardent a gaze upon Betty, that she turned and looked out of the window, unwilling to let him see what her face must reveal.
Mrs. Irving laughed a little and began to adjust his pillows carefully.
"We are going to have a doctor for you today," she announced, and
Allen sat up in bed with a jerk.
"What for?" he demanded. "I don't need any doctor. I'm feeling all right now, and ten to one, he'd make me sick. They always do. Please don't bring one of them in here."
"Don't make a fuss and get excited, please," Mrs. Irving cautioned him gently, while her eyes dwelt with humorous sympathy upon Betty's back. "I'm going down to prepare some breakfast, and perhaps Betty can persuade you about the doctor."
Before either of them realized it, she was gone, leaving them alone.
Still Betty forgot to turn round.
For several minutes, Allen lay and regarded her contentedly. Then he gave a mountainous sigh, and finally: