arily be so slow that
their unpractised eyes could hardly expect to trace its progress.

It is just possible that Meredith could at this time have had no better
nurse than Joseph. There was a military discipline about the man's
method which was worth more than much feminine persuasion.

"Beef tea, sir," he would announce with a face of wood, for the sixth
time in one day.

"What, again? No, hang it! I can't."

"Them's my orders, sir," was Joseph's invariable reply, and he was
usually in a position to produce documentary confirmation of his
statement. The two men--master and servant--had grown so accustomed to
the military discipline of a besieged garrison that it did not seem to
occur to them to question the doctor's orders.

Nestorius--small, stout, and silent--was a frequenter of the sick-room,
by desire of the invalid. After laboriously toiling up the shallow
stairs--a work entailing huge effort of limbs and chin--he would stump
gravely into the room without any form of salutation. There are some
great minds above such trifles. His examination of the patient was a
matter of some minutes. Then he would say, "Bad case," with the peculiar
mechanical diction that was his--the words that Meredith had taught
him on the evening of his arrival. After making his diagnosis Nestorius
usually proceeded to entertain the patient with a display of his
treasures for the time being. These were not in themselves of great
value: sundry pebbles, a trouser-button, two shells, and a glass
stopper, formed, as it were, the basis of his collection, which was
increased or diminished according to circumstances. Some of these he
named; others were exhibited with a single adjective, uttered curtly, as
between men who required no great tale of words wherewith to understand
each other. A few were considered to be of sufficient value and
importance to tell their own story and make their way in the world
thereupon. He held these out with a face of grave and contemplative
patronage.

"Never, Nestorius," Meredith would say gravely, "in the course of a long
and varied experience, have I seen a Worcester-sauce stopper of such
transcendent beauty."

Sometimes Nestorius clambered on to the bed, when the mosquito-curtains
were up, and rested from his labours--a small curled-up form, looking
very comfortable. And then, when his mother's soft voice called him,
he was wont to gather up his belongings and take his departure. On the
threshold he always