“About this new disease,” said Joe.  “D’you think it’s ketchin’?  I feel rather funny meself.”

“Stuff!” returned his wife.  “Clear away those papers and that bone, and go and take Blink out, and sit on a seat; it’s all you’re fit for.  Of all the happy-go-luckys you’re the worst.”

“Well, I never could worry,” said Joe from the doorway; “’tisn’t in me.  So long!”

And, dragging Blink by the collar, he withdrew.

Alone with her patient, Mrs. Petty, an enthusiast for cleanliness and fresh air, went on her knees, and, having plucked out the charred ring of the little hole in the carpet, opened the window wider to rid the room of the smell of burning.  “If it wasn’t for me,” she thought, leaning out into the air, “I don’t know what’d become of them.”

A voice from a few feet away said: 

“I hope he’s none the worse.  What does the doctor say?”

Looking round in astonishment, Mrs. Petty saw a young lady leaning out of a window on her right.

“We can’t tell at present,” she said, with a certain reserve he is going on satisfactory.

“It’s not hydrophobia, is it?” asked the young lady.  “You know he fell out of the window?

“What!” ejaculated Mrs. Petty.

“Where the lilac’s broken.  If I can give you a hand I shall be very glad.  I’m a V.A.D.”

“Thank you, I’m sure,” said Mrs. Petty stiffly, for the passion of jealousy, to which she was somewhat prone, was rising in her, “there is no call.”  And she thought, “V.A. indeed!  I know them.”

Poor dear said the young lady.  “He did come a bump.  It was awfully funny!  Is he—­er——?” And she touched her forehead, where tendrils of fair hair were blowing in the breeze.

Inexpressibly outraged by such a question concerning one for whom she had a proprietary reverence, Mrs. Petty answered acidly: 

“Oh dear no!  He is much wiser than some people!”

“It was only that he mentioned the last man and the last dollar, you know,” said the young lady, as if to herself, “but, of course, that’s no real sign.”  And she uttered a sudden silvery laugh.

Mrs. Petty became aware of something tickling her left ear, and turning round, found her master leaning out beside her, in his dressing-gown.

“Leave me, Mrs. Petty,” he said with such dignity that she instinctively recoiled.  “It may seem to you,” continued Mr. Lavender, addressing the young lady, “indelicate on my part to resume my justification, but as a public man, I suffer, knowing that I have committed a breach of decorum.”

“Don’t you think you ought to keep quiet in bed?” Mrs. Petty heard the young lady ask.

“My dear young lady,” Mr. Lavender replied, “the thought of bed is abhorrent to me at a time like this.  What more ignoble fate than to die in, one’s bed?”

“I’m only asking you to live in it,” said the young lady, while Mrs. Petty grasped her master by the skirts of his gown.