about—the kind of intuition which we doctors get, you know."
"Would you like a consultation?" she asked.
"Nonsense, Jane—there's nothing the matter," interrupted the drawling voice of the gallant Captain, who had just entered. "You leave d'Escombe to look after the little chap. He'll be well in a couple of days."
The lady looked at him, a very straight, almost inquiring look, and I could see by the momentary flash in her eyes and the firmer set of the mouth that she distrusted her relation; perhaps simply because he was the next heir to little Jackie.
"You'll tell me at once if there's the slightest danger, won't you. Dr. d'Escombe?" she said to me, ignoring the Captain's remark altogether. "He is all I've got, and it would break my heart if anything happened to him. I can trust you, can't I?"
This kind of interview was none too pleasant, and I was glad to get away and drink a large whisky-and-soda with the prospective Lord of the Manor.
"How is he really?" he asked, looking keenly at me.
"I don't quite know, Chalmers. I shouldn't
