o bed somehow, whatever he says! If he's unpleasant
he must _be_ unpleasant, that's all."

And she hardened her heart. But immediately she saw him again, sitting
forlornly in the chair, with the whole of the left side of his face
criss-crossed in whitish-grey plaster, she was ready to cry over him
and flatter his foolishest whim. She wanted to take him in her arms,
if he would but have allowed her. She felt that she could have borne
his weight for hours without moving, had he fallen asleep against her
bosom.... Still, he must be got to bed. How negligent of the doctor
not to have given the order himself!

Then Louis said: "I say! I think I may as well lie down!"

She was about to cry out, "Oh, you must!"

But she forbore. She became as wily as old Batchgrew.

"Do you think so?" she answered, doubtfully.

"I've nothing else particular on hand," he said.

She knew that he wanted to surrender without appearing to surrender.

"Well," she suggested, "will you lie down on the bed for a bit?"

"I think I will."

"And then I'll give you some hot milk."

She dared not help him to mount the stairs, but she walked close
behind him.

"I was thinking," he said on the landing, "I'd stroll down and take
stock of those bicycles later in the day. But perhaps I'm not fit to
be seen."

She thought: "You won't stroll down later in the day--I shall see to
that."

"By the way," he said, "you might send Mrs. Tams down to Horrocleave's
to explain that I shan't give them my valuable assistance to-day....
Oh! Mrs. Tams"--the woman was just bustling out of the bedroom, duster
in hand--"will you toddle down to the works and tell them I'm not
coming?"

"Eh, mester!" breathed Mrs. Tams, looking at him. "It's a mercy it's
no worse."

"Yes," Louis teased her, "but you go and look at the basin downstairs,
Mrs. Tams. That'll give you food for thought."

Shaking her head, she smiled at Rachel, because the master had spirit
enough to be humorous with her.

In the bedroom, Louis said, "I might be more comfortable if I took
some of my clothes off."

Thereupon he abandoned himself to Rachel. She did as she pleased with
him, and he never opposed. Seven bruises could be counted on his left
side. He permitted himself to be formally and completely put to bed.
He drank half a glass of hot milk, and then said that he could not
possibly swallow any more. Everything had been done that ought to be
done and that could be done. And Rachel kept