“But if I put my head out of the other end of the tunnel, I shall go on as usual.  If I don’t, then I had better tell you what I have done.  You know I have no near relations.  The noble family of Payne is practically summed up in me.  The Vicar’s a sort of cousin, but a very diluted one.  I have arranged by my will that if you two fellows think you can keep the place going on its present lines, you can have a try.  But I don’t think it will do, I think it will be artificial and possibly ridiculous.  I don’t think it has got life!  And if you decide not to try, then it will all go to my old College, which is quite alive.  I would rather they would not sell it—­but bless me, what does it matter?  It is a mistake to try and grip anything with a dead hand.  But if I get through, and I believe I have a good chance of doing so, you must just keep things going till I get back—­which won’t be long.  There’s the case in a nutshell!  You quite understand?  I don’t want you to do what you think I should wish, because I don’t wish.  And now we won’t say another word about it, unless there are any questions you would like to ask.  By the way, I have arranged the programme for the day.  The doctor is coming to see me presently, and while he is here you can have some lunch—­they will see to that—­and then you can have a talk to him, while I have my lunch—­I can tell you they do feed me up here!—­and then we will have a talk, and you can catch the 4.30.  You know how I like planning out a day.”

“But we thought we would like to stay in town, and see it all through,” said Barthrop.  “We have brought up some things.”

“Stuff and nonsense!” said Father Payne in his old manner.  “Back you go by the 4.30, things and all!  I have got the best nurse in the world, Sister Jane.  By George, it’s a treat exploring that woman’s mind.  She’s full of kindness and common sense and courage, without a grain of reason.  There’s nothing in the world that woman wouldn’t do, and nothing she wouldn’t believe—­she’s entirely mediaeval.  Then I have some books:  and I’m going to read and talk and play patience—­I’m quite good at that already—­and eat and drink and sleep.  I’m not to be disturbed, I tell you!  To-morrow is a complete holiday:  and on Friday the great event comes off.  I won’t have any useless emotion, or any bedside thoughts!” He glanced at us smiling and said, “Oh, of course, my dear boys, I’m only joking.  I know you would like to stay, and I would like to have you here well enough:  but see here—­if all goes well, what’s the use of this drama?—­people can’t behave quite naturally, however much they would like to, and I don’t want any melting looks:  and if it goes the other way—­well, I don’t like good-byes.  I agree with dear old Mrs. Barbauld: 

  “’Say not Good-night, but in some brighter clime
        Bid me Good-morning.’”

He was silent for a moment—­and just at that moment the doctor arrived.