“You put things pleasantly!” he said. “It seems to me that the pigs were trying to kill you: but you’re all extraordinarily cheerful about it. Now, where’s Miss Norah gone? I never saw such a girl—she moves like quicksilver!” Norah returned, bearing a spare cup. “Do have some tea, doctor,” she begged. “I haven’t time, but I will,” said the doctor, abandoning professional cares, and sitting down. “One’s life is all topsy-turvy nowadays. A year ago I would not have dreamed of having tea in a patient’s bedroom—let alone two patients—but then, a year ago I was practising in Harley Street, developing a sweet, bedside manner and the figure of an alderman. Today I’m a semi-military hack, with no manner at all, and my patients chaff me—actually chaff me, Miss Norah! It’s very distressing to one’s inherited notions.” “It must be,” said Norah, deeply sympathetic. “The cake is quite good, doctor.” “It is,” agreed the doctor, accepting some. “Occasionally I find a pompous old colonel or brigadier among my patients, and we exchange soothing confidences about the terrible future of the medical profession and the Army. That helps; but then I come back to the long procession of the foolish subalterns who go out to Flanders without ever having learned to dodge!” His eye twinkled as he glared at Jim and Wally. Norah, whose visits to wounded soldiers during many weeks had taught her something beyond his reputation as the most skilful and most merciful of surgeons, listened unmoved and offered him more tea. “It’s no good trying to impress you!” said the doctor, surrendering his cup. “Thank you, I will have some more—in pure kindness of heart towards you, Miss Norah, since, when I leave this room, all visitors go with me!” “Oh!” said Norah. “I’ll get some fresh tea, doctor!” “You will not,” said the doctor, severely. “The picnic is nearly at an end: you can have another to-morrow, if you’re good.” “When can we remove the patients, doctor?” asked Mr. Linton, who had been sitting in amused silence. A great contentment had settled on his face: already the lines of anxiety were smoothed away. He did not want to talk; it was sufficient to sit and watch Jim, occasionally meeting his eyes with a half-smile. “Remove the patients—Good gracious!” ejaculated the doctor. “Why they’ve only just been removed once! Can’t you let them settle down a little?” “We want to take them to Ireland,” said Norah, eagerly. “Can we, doctor?” “H’m,” said the doctor, reflectively. “There might be worse plans. We’ll see. Ireland: that’s the place where the motto is, ‘When you see a head, hit it!’ isn’t it?” “I don’t think it’s universal,” said Mr. Linton mildly. “It’s really much more peaceful than English legends would lead you to believe.”