"
"Is it a good story?" asked the doctor.
"Why, yes; fairly good."
"Then tell it. May I stay?"
"Certainly," said Mr. Royce and I together, and the doctor drew up a
chair.
So I recounted, as briefly as I could, the events of the past two
days, and the happy accident which had given me the address I sought.
Mr. Royce's face was beaming when I ended.
"And you start for France to-morrow?" he asked.
"To-morrow morning--the boat sails at ten o'clock."
"Well, I'm going with you!" he cried.
"Why," I stammered, startled by his vehemence, "are you strong enough?
I'd be mighty glad to have you, but do you think you ought? How about
it, doctor?"
Jenkinson was smiling with half-shut eyes.
"It's not a bad idea," he said. "He needs rest and quiet more than
anything else, and he's bound to get a week of that on the water,
which is more than he'll do here. I can't keep that brain of his
still, wherever he is. He'd worry here, and with you he'll be
contented. Besides," he added, "he ought to be along: for I believe
the expedition is going to be successful!"
I believed so, too; but I recognized in Jenkinson's words that fine
optimism which had done so much to make him the great doctor he was. I
shook our junior's hand again in the joy of having him with me. As for
him, he seemed quite transformed, and Jenkinson gazed at him with a
look of quiet pleasure.
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