“All right, doctor.  Do you think he’s had enough to eat?”

“Enough for to-night, yes.  Now, Mr. Bangs,” turning to the still protesting Galusha, “you and I will go upstairs and see that you get to bed.”

“But, really, doctor, I—­”

“What’s troublin’ me, doctor,” broke in Miss Phipps, “is what on earth to give him to sleep in.  There may be a nightshirt of father’s around in one of the trunks somewhere, but I doubt it, for I gave away almost everything of that kind when he died.  I suppose he might use one of Primmie’s nightgowns, or mine, but either one would swallow him whole, I’m afraid.”

Doctor Powers, catching a glimpse of the expression on his patient’s face, was obliged to wait an instant before venturing to reply.  Galusha himself took advantage of the interval.

“Why—­why—­” he cried, “I—­ Dear me, dear me, I must have forgotten it entirely.  My suitcase!  I—­ah—­it must be on the veranda of that hotel.  I left it there.”

“What hotel?  The Restabit Inn?”

“Yes.  I—­”

He got no further.  His hostess began issuing orders.  A few minutes later, Primmie, adequately if not beautifully attired in a man’s oilskin “slicker,” sou’wester, and rubber boots, clumped forth in search of the suitcase.  She returned dripping but grinning with the missing property.  Its owner regarded it with profound thankfulness.  He could at least retire for the night robed as a man and a brother.

“Everything in there you need, Mr. Bangs?” asked Doctor Powers, briskly.

“Oh, yes, quite, quite—­ah—­thank you.  But really—­”

“Then you and I will go aloft, as old Cap’n Jim would have said.  Cap’n Jim Phipps was Miss Martha’s father, Mr. Bangs, and there may have been finer men, but I never met any of ’em.  All ready?  Good!  Here, here, don’t hurry!  Take it easy.  Those stairs are steep.”

They were steep, and narrow as well.  Galusha went first but before he reached the top he was extremely thankful that the sturdy physician was behind to steady him.  Miss Martha called to say that she had left a lighted lamp in the bedroom.  Beyond the fact that the room itself was of good size Galusha noticed little concerning it, little except the bed, which was large and patchwork-quilted and tremendously inviting.

Doctor Powers briskly helped him to undress.  The soaked shoes and stockings made the physician shake his head.

“Your feet are as cold as ice, I suppose, eh?” he inquired.

“Why, a trifle chilled, but nothing—­really nothing.”

Miss Martha called up the stairs.

“Doctor,” she called, “here’s a hot-water bag.  I thought probably ’twould feel comfortable.”

Doctor Powers accepted the bag and returned to the room, shaking his head.

“That woman’s got more sense than a—­than a barn full of owls,” he declared, solemnly.  “There, Mr. Bangs, that’ll warm up your underpinning.  Anything more you want?  All right, are you?”