"But you're in his bed," said Mrs. Chinnery.
"Eh?"
"In his bed," screamed Mrs. Chinnery.
"I sha'n't bite him," repeated the captain.
"But he can't sleep with you," said Mrs. Chinnery, red with loud speaking.
"I don't want him to," said Captain Sellers. "I've got nothing against him, and, in a general way of speaking, I'm not what could be called a particular man—but I draw the line."
Mrs. Chinnery went downstairs hastily and held a council of war with Mrs. Willett and Martha. It was decided to wait for the doctor, but the latter, when he came, could give no assistance.
"He's very sore and stiff," he said, thoughtfully, "but it's nothing serious. It's more vanity than anything else; he likes being made a fuss of and being a centre of attraction. He's as tough as leather, and the most difficult old man I have ever encountered."
"Is he quite right in his head?" demanded Mrs. Chinnery, hotly.
The doctor pondered. "He's a little bit childish, but his head will give more trouble to other people than to himself," he said at last. "Be as patient with him as you can, and if you can once persuade him to get up, perhaps he will consent to be moved."