"Arm's getting on all right, Mr. Vernon," he said; "but the rest of you
isn't improving. I think you'd better get up to-morrow and go
downstairs. I'd keep you here, of course; but lying in bed isn't a
bracing operation, especially when you think; and you think, don't you?"

"When I can't help it," replied Vernon, rather grimly. "I'm glad you
have given me permission to get up; though I dare say I should have got
up without it."

"I dare say," commented the old doctor. "Always have your own way, as a
rule, don't you?"

"Always," assented the patient listlessly.

"Ye-s; it's a bad thing for most men; a very bad thing for you, I should
say. By the way, if you should go downstairs, you must keep quiet----"

"Good heavens, you don't suppose I intend to dance or sing!" broke in
Vernon, with a smile, of irritation.

"No; I mean that you must sit still and avoid any exertion. You'll find
that you are not capable of much in the way of dancing or singing," he
added, with a short laugh. "Try and amuse yourself, and don't--worry."

"Thanks," said Mr. Vernon.

Then, after a pause, he added: "I must seem an ill-conditioned beast, I'm afraid, doctor; but the fact
is--well, I have been worried lately, and this ridiculous accident
hasn't tended to soothe me."