Austin only said that he was very comfortable where he was, and that he wouldn't think of being taken away, because he knew how dreadfully poor Aunt Charlotte suffered at sea, and travelling was a sad nuisance after all.

And indeed it would have been impossible to move him, for his sufferings were occasionally very great.

Sometimes he would writhe in strange agonies all night long, till they used to wonder how he would live through it; but when morning came he scarcely ever remembered anything at all, and in answer to enquiries always said that he had had a very good night indeed, thank you.

Once or twice he seemed to have a dim recollection of something--some "bustle and fluff," as he expressed it--during his troubled sleep; and then he would ask anxiously whether he really had been giving them any bother, and assure them that he was so very sorry, and hoped they would forgive him for having been so stupid.

At which Aunt Charlotte had to smile and joke as heroically as she knew how.
There were some days, however, when he was quite free from pain, and then he was as bright and cheerful as ever.