"Visitors, Chip, old man," he announced, and flung open the door.
Chip was lying stretched out on the sofa, pillows behind his head and a striped rug across his knees. His quiet manner of welcoming them seemed to Judy to contrast almost humorously with his friend's bluff cheeriness.
He had a nervous little speech all ready for them.
"I'm ashamed," he said, "to be the cause of all this bother. It's most awfully good of you to come. You'll forgive my not getting up, won't you? I'm not allowed to, for some reason."
"I should hope not," said Noel, as they shook hands.
"As for being a bother," Judy told him, "that's the sort of thing invalids say when they know they're not strong enough to be shaken. Major Crosby, I can't—I can't tell you how sorry we are." She hurried on, fearful of showing emotion. "Let's not say any more about that part of it. You know what we feel. . . ."
"And after all," put in Major Stroud, after the manner of Major Strouds, "accidents will happen, ye know, and as I tell Chip, he simply barged into you."
"Well," said Judy, "it's silly, both sides
