"And I can't be worried about these things," said Swann, in an
acrimonious voice, as they entered. "If you are not capable of settling
a simple question like that yourself, ask the office-boy to instruct you.

"It's your work," retorted Hardy, "and a nice mess it's in."

"H'sh!" said the nurse, coming forward hastily. "You must leave the
room, sir. I can't have you exciting my patient."

Hardy bestowed an indignant glance at the invalid.

"Get out!" said that gentleman, with extraordinary fierceness for one in
his weak condition. "In future, nurse, I won't have this person admitted
to my room."

"Yes, yes; certainly," said the nurse. "You must go, sir; at once,
please."

"I'm going," said Hardy, almost losing his gravity at the piteous
spectacle afforded by the house-keeper as she stood, still holding the
tray and staring open-mouthed at the combatants. "When you're tired of
skulking in bed, perhaps you'll come and do your share of the work."

Mr. Swann rose to a sitting position, and his demeanour was so alarming
that the nurse, hastening over to him, entreated him to lie down, and
waved Hardy peremptorily from the room.

"Puppy!" said the invalid, with great relish. "Blockhead!"

[Illustration: "'Puppy!' said the invalid."]