Sun-strokes are not frequent in this climate, sir, but when they do come, they can't be trifled with." Perhaps Lionel felt the same conviction.

Perhaps he felt that with this pain, increasing as it was in intensity, he must make the best of his way home, if he would get home at all.

"Good-day, Matthew," he said, rising from the bench.

"I'll go home at once!" "And send for Dr.West, sir, or for Mr.Jan, if you are no better when you get there," was the parting salutation of the old man.
He stood at the door, leaning on his stick, and watched Lionel down Clay Lane.

"A sun-stroke, for sure," repeated he, slowly turning in, as the angle of the lane hid Lionel from his view..