"I'm all right," said James, who was lying in bed with the sheets up to his nose, "I'm all right--for heaven's sake, don't fidget with that window blind--I want my letters brought up; shan't go to the office to-day. You can send round and tell Bridgewater to call, and send for Carter, I've got a touch of this Arthritic Rheumatism (ow!)--do ask that servant to make less row on the stairs. No, don't want any breakfast." "Well, Hancock," said Dr Carter, when he arrived, "got it again--whew! There's a foot! What have you been eating?" "Nothing," groaned the patient; "it's worry has done it, I believe." "Now, don't talk nonsense. What have you been eating and drinking?" "Well, I believe I had an ice-cream some days ago, and--a cake." "An ice-cream, and a cake, and a glass of port--come, confess your sins." "No, a glass of Burgundy." "An ice-cream, and a cake, and a glass of Burgundy--well, you can commit suicide if you choose, but I can only warn you of this that if you wish to commit suicide in a _most unpleasant manner_ you'll do such a thing again." "Dash it, Carter--oh, Lord! go gently, don't touch it there! What's the good of being alive? I remember the days when I could drink a whole bottle of port without turning a hair." "I know--but you're not as young as you were then, Hancock." "Oh, do say something original--say I'm getting old, and have done with it!" "It's not your age so much as your diathesis," said the pitiless Carter. "It's unfortunate for you, but there you are. You might be worse, every man is born with a disease. Yours is gout--you might be worse. Suppose you had aneurism? Now, here's a prescription; get it made up at once. Thank goodness, you can stand colchicum." "How long will it be before I'm all right?" "A week, at least." "Oh Lord!" "There, you are grumbling. Remember, my dear fellow, that living is a business as well as lawyering. Take life easy, and forget the office for a few days." "I wasn't thinking of the office--give me that writing-case over there; I must write a letter." When Bridgewater arrived half an hour later, he found his master laboriously addressing an envelope. "Take that and post it, Bridgewater." Bridgewater took it and placed it in his pocket without looking at the address upon it, and having reported on the morning letters, and received advice as to dealing with one or two matters, ambled off on his errand. That evening at five o'clock, when Patience brought him up a cup of tea and the evening newspaper, James, considerably eased by the colchicum and pills of Dr Carter, said: "Put the tea on the table there, and sit down, Patience. I wish to speak to you." Patience sat down, took her knitting from her apron pocket, and began to knit. "I have written a letter to-day to Miss Lambert." "Oh!" "An important letter, a vitally important letter to me." "You mean, James, that you have written a letter of proposal--that you intend, in short, to marry Miss Lambert?"