om a very bright sky for the two
people there to see each what the other looked like. Mr. Copley used
his eyes in this investigation for a few minutes in silence.

"Who are you?" he inquired abruptly.

"A friend."

"What friend? You are a friend I don't know."

"That is true; but it will not be true to-morrow," Mr. Shubrick said
quietly.

"What are you here for?"

"To act the part of a friend, if you will allow me. I am here to wait
upon you, Mr. Copley."

"Thank you, I prefer my own people about me," said the sick man curtly.
"You may go, and send them, or some of them, to me."

"I cannot do that," said the stranger, "and you must put up with me for
to-night. Mrs. Copley and your daughter are both very tired, and need
rest."

"Humph!" said the invalid with a surprised grunt. "Did _they_ send you
here?"

"No. They permitted me to come. I take it as a great privilege."

"You take it before you have got it. I have not given my leave yet.
What are you doing there?"

"Letting some fresh air in for you." Mr. Shubrick was setting wide open
both leaves of the casement.

"You mustn't do that. The night air is not good for me. Shut the
window."

"You cannot have any air at night _but_ night air," replied Mr.
Shubrick, uttering what a great authority has since spoken, and leaving
the window wide open.

"But night air is very bad. I don't want it; do you hear?"

"If you will lie still a minute or two, you will begin to feel that it
is very good. It is full of the breath of roses and mignonette, and a
hundred other pleasant things."

"But I tell you that's poison!" cried Mr. Copley, beginning to excite
himself. "I choose to have the window shut; do you hear me, sir?
Confound you, I want it shut!"

The young man, without regarding this order, came to the bedside,
lifted Mr. Copley's head and shook up his pillows and laid him
comfortably down again.

"Lie still," he said, "and be quiet. You are under orders, and I am in
command here to-night. I am going to take care of you, and you have no
need to think about it. Is that right?"

"Yes," said the other, with another grunt half of astonishment and half
of relief,--"that's right. But I want the window shut, I tell you."

"Now you shall have your broth. It will be ready presently."

"I don't want any broth!" said the sick man. "If you could get me a
glass of wine;--_that_ would set me up. I'm tired to death of these
confounded slops. They are nothing for a