He is to lie down on my bed for
half an hour, and Mr. Evelyn is not to go near him. Then, if he is
awake—-"
"If-—" ejaculated John.
"Give him a basin of soup-—Liebig, if you can't get anything here."
"Liebig!" broke out John. "Oh, please take some. There's nothing up
there but old goat, and nothing to drink but milk and lemonade, like
beastly hair-oil; and Jock hates milk."
"Never fear," said Dr. Medlicott; "Liebig is going, and a packet of
tea. Mrs. Evelyn does not send us out unprovided. If you eat your
soup like a good boy, you may then ride up-—not walk-—unless you wish
to be on your mother's hands too."
"She's my aunt; but it is all the same. Tell her I'm coming."
"I shall go with you, doctor," said Cecil. "I must know about
Brownlow."
"Much good you'll do him! But I'd rather leave this fellow in
Fordham's charge than yours."
So Johnny had no choice but to obey, growling a little that it was
all nonsense, and he should be all right in five minutes, but that
expectation continued, without being realised, for longer than Johnny
knew. He awoke with a start to find the Liebig awaiting him; and
Lord Fordham's eyes fixed on him, with (though neither understood it)
the generous, though melancholy envy of an invalid youth for a young
athlete.
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