"You know I've trusted you all these years. But with only the one boy I get 'nervy.'"
"And rightly so, sir," I chimed in, seeing that a little fillip was necessary. "And although I am sorry that Dr. Elleston should have taken what I've said in the spirit he has, yet I still say I am not quite happy about the boy."
This was enough. The old family doctor, with a savage look at me, said he was going; and the Colonel accompanied him to the door. Before I left I distinctly heard him say that if anything went wrong it would be a bad day for Elleston.
Days went on, the boy looked whiter and more tired, and certainly his medical attendant would have sounded a note of alarm earlier except for the fact that he would have to acknowledge his mistake, and my perspicuity, until at last the boy's temperature told its tale.
Then there was trouble. A consulting physician was sent for, but before that the Colonel asked me my private opinion and I told him I feared typhoid. He mentioned this to Elleston, who pooh-poohed the idea, until the new adviser said definitely that it was so.
