e remarked in a tone almost
jovial. "Don't try to tell me there's anything the matter with you.
I'll refuse to believe it."

"Oh, heavens, no, I'm all right," laughed Miss Clifford agreeably.
"It's this tiresome brother of mine who's been bothering us a bit.
He's been feeling seedy for several days, haven't you, Charlie?"

Sir Charles shook his head, though whether in dissent or simply out of
an ingrained desire to contradict was not apparent.

"Feeling seedy, has he? Well, and what seems to be the trouble?"
inquired the doctor with that sort of purring patter which one can
readily believe to be the first thing learned by a student of medicine.
"Caught a slight chill, perhaps? The weather's been a bit tricky."

"Ah, I think it is that," put in the Frenchwoman eagerly. "That
Wednesday at the polo, Charles, when it came on to rain...."

"Not a bit of it," denied her husband positively. "If it comes to
that, I had all these feelings before I ever thought of going to the
polo."

"I begged him to let me send for you, doctor, but you know what he is
like," interpolated Miss Clifford. "He hates to admit he is ill."

"What sort of feelings?" blandly inquired the doctor.

Sir Charles thrust out his lower lip. He had planted himself in an
armchair, while his wife remained standing a little behind him, her
face, it seemed to Esther, full of anxiety.

"Oh, headaches, backaches. The back's the worst. Goes on steadily.
Had it for days."

"Sharp pain?"

"No, dull. Not like lumbago."

"He has no appetite," added his sister.

"Well, well, let's have a look at you."

The doctor drew a chair beside Sir Charles and reached for the gaunt
brownish hand. At the same moment Lady Clifford made a little movement
of solicitude, laying her gloved hand on the old man's shoulder.

"Are you quite comfortable there, _mon cher_?" she whispered. "You're
not in a _courant d'air_?"

He let her hand rest, but shook his head impatiently.

"No, no, I'm all right. My God, doctor, what with these two women for
ever fussing about my health and asking me how I feel a hundred times a
day, the wonder is I manage to keep going at all."

He closed his eyes while the doctor counted his pulse. During the
ensuing silence it struck Esther that both women were more worried than
was necessary. The Frenchwoman in particular watched with an air of
tense apprehension.

The doctor shut up his watch with a snap.

"Now the tongue," he sa