"Look, I'm going to help you into the hall and put you on the big divan straight away.

Then we'll discuss what's to be done with you," he added, smiling down at her.
"You won't let them keep me in bed, Barry, will you ?" urged Nan as he helped her up the steps and into the great hall, its ancient panelling of oak gleaming like polished ebony in the afternoon sunlight.
Barry pulled thoughtfully at his big fair moustache.
"If Kitty says 'bed,' you know it'll have to be bed," he answered, his eyes twinkling a little.
Nan subsided on to the wide, cushioned divan.
"Nonsense!" she exclaimed crossly, "You don't stay in bed because you've scratched your ankle." "No.

But you must remember you've had a bit of a shock." By this time Kitty and Roger had joined them, overhearing the last part of the conversation.
"Of _course_ you'll go to bed at once," asserted Kitty firmly.

"Will you give her a hand upstairs, Barry ?" "You see ?" said Barry, regarding the patient humorously.

"Come along, Nan! Shall I carry you or will you hobble ?" "I'll _walk_," returned Nan with emphasis.
"Bed's much the best place for you," put in Roger.
He followed her to the foot of the staircase and, as he shook hands, said quietly: "Till Monday, then." "Where's Penelope ?" asked Nan, as Barry assisted her upstairs with a perfectly unnecessary hand under her arm, since--as she curtly informed him--she had "no intention of accomplishing two faints in one day." "Penelope is out with Fenton--need you ask ?" And Barry chuckled good-humouredly.