When he came back, looking much revived, a tempting little tea table stood before the fire and Rose went to meet him, saying with a faint smile, as she liberally bedewed him with the contents of a cologne flask: "I can't bear the smell of ether it suggests such dreadful things." "What curious creatures women are! Archie told us you bore the news like a hero, and now you turn pale at a whiff of bad air.

I can't explain it," mused Mac as he meekly endured the fragrant shower bath.
"Neither can I, but I've been imagining horrors all day and made myself nervous.

Don't let us talk about it, but come and have some tea." "That's another queer thing.

Tea is your panacea for all human ills yet there isn't any nourishment in it.

I'd rather have a glass of milk, thank you," said Mac, taking an easy chair and stretching his feet to the fire.
She brought it to him and made him eat something; then, as he shut his eyes wearily, she went away to the piano and, having no heart to sing, played softly till he seemed asleep.