And the whole party were so possessed with the notion that Mr Armstrong was something of a hero, that any suggestion to the contrary was just then clearly inopportune.
The main fact, however, was that Roger Ingleton, Minor--dear lad--was very ill indeed.
"I trust, doctor," said the captain, about a fortnight after the accident, to Dr Brandram, who was quitting the house with a decidedly long face, "I trust our dear young patient is on a good road now to recovery." "I don't like the look of him, I must confess," replied the doctor; "but, with perfect quiet and nothing to excite him, he will pull round.
The one thing to be dreaded is excitement.

The lungs we have got well in hand, but that blow on his temple makes an ugly complication." "Poor fellow.

Is there nothing one can do ?" "Let him alone, with your sweet daughter to nurse him.

She is an angel, Captain Oliphant, if you'll excuse my saying so." "She knows, as we all do, how precious his life is.

And how is your other patient ?" "Armstrong?
Practically well.