After Jim's arrival my lord recovered quickly, each day making great progress, much to the doctor's satisfaction, who never tired of telling Mr. Beauleigh and Miss Betty that it was entirely owing to his treatment that the patient had recovered at all. As his idea of treatment mainly consisted of copiously bleeding John, which process Miss Betty very soon put an end to, he and she had many arguments on the subject, in which he was completely routed. She held that Mr. Carr was well on the strength of her nursing and his own constitution-and very probably she was right. In any case, hardly a fortnight after O'Hara's first visit, my lord was standing before his mirror, surveying himself, with his head speculatively on one side and a worried look in his eyes. Salter watched him anxiously, knowing this to be a critical moment. His master was somewhat of an enigma to him; the important things in life never appeared to affect him, but over a question of two cravats as opposed to each other, or some equally trivial matter, he would become quite harassed.
After contemplating his appearance for several moments, Carstares frowned and looked over his shoulder.
"I have changed my mind, Jim. I will wear blue after all."
Salter sighed despairingly.
"Ye look very well in what ye have on, sir," he grunted.
Jack sat down obstinately.
"I have conceived a dislike-nay, a veritable hatred-for puce. I will wear blue."
"Now, sir, do ha' done changing your clothes! Ye'll be tired out before ever ye get downstairs, and ye know what the doctor said."
My lord consigned the doctor and his words of wisdom to a place of great heat.
"Ay, sir, but-"
"The doctor is a worthy individual, Jim, but he knows even less of the art of dressing than you do. He does not understand the soulagony of a man who makes his first appearance in puce."
"But-"
"The blue coat laced with gold."
"Sir-"
"I order it! I insist; The blue coat or nought!"
"Very well, sir." Resignedly Jim walked to the cupboard.
When at length his lordship was dressed to his entire satisfaction it was midway through the hot June afternoon, and Miss Betty was tapping at the door, wishing to know whether Mr. Carr was coming down, or whether he was not.
Carstares shifted his sling, and taking up his hat, moved just a little shakily to the door.
Salter opened it, and cast a triumphant glance at Miss Betty, as though he were showing off all my lord's graces. He proffered an arm.
"Shall I help ye, sir?"
Miss Betty curtsied low.