Charlotte observed that the worker seemed never at a loss what to do,
that his touch was as light as it was practised, and that his eyes were
full of keen interest in his work. At length Doctor Churchill finished
his manipulations and put on the smooth bandages, which, he remarked
with a laugh, were to turn Lanse into the image of the Terrible Turk.
"You show all the Spartan attributes of the real martyr," declared the
doctor, as he helped his patient back to a couch. "It took pluck to get
home here alone. How was it they sent no man with you?"
"Everybody busy. A man was coming with me if I'd let him, but I didn't
care for his company so I slipped out. It was farther home than I
thought," Lanse explained. "How long will this lay me up? I can go back
to-morrow, can't I?"
"Suppose we say the day after. That hammock on your front porch behind
the vines strikes me as a restful place for you. A bit of vacation won't
hurt you."
By afternoon the ache in John Lansing's head had reached a point where
he gladly lay quietly in the hammock and submitted to be waited on by
two devoted feminine slaves.
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