"That's better;" and he took off his spectacles, made his grey hair
stand up all over his head like tongues of silver fire, and looked
Dexter over from top to toe.

Thanks to Helen's supervision, the boy looked very creditable. His hair
was of course "cut almost to the bone," and his face had still the Union
look--pale and saddened, but he was dressed in a neat suit which fitted
him, and his turn-down collar and black tie seemed to give his well-cut
features quite a different air.

"What did I say, Helen!" said the doctor, with a chuckle. "You see what
we have done already. Well, sir, how do you feel now!"

"Not very jolly," said the boy, with a writhe.

"Hem!" coughed the doctor; "not very comfortable you mean!"

"Yes, that's it," said Dexter. "Boots hurts my feet, and when the
trousers ain't rubbin' the skin o' my legs, this here collar feels as if
it would saw my head off."

"Humph!" ejaculated the doctor stiffly. "You had better put on the old
things again."

"Eh? No, thankye," cried Dexter eagerly. "I like these here ever so
much. Please may I keep 'em!"

"Of course," said the doctor; "and take care of them, like a good boy."

"Yes. I'm going to be a very good boy now, sir. She says I am to."

He nodded his head in the direction of Helen, and stood upon one leg to
ease the foot which the shoe pinched.

"That's right, but don't say _she_. You must look upon Miss Grayson now
as if she were your sister."

"Yes, that I will," said the boy warmly.

Helen flushed a little at her father's words, and a serious look came
into her sweet face; but at that moment she felt Dexter steal his hand
into hers, and then it was lifted and held against the boy's cheek, as,
in feline fashion, he rubbed his face against it, and a smile came into
her eyes again, as she laid the hand at liberty upon the closely cropped
head.

"I say, ain't she pretty, and don't she look nice?" said Dexter
suddenly; and his free and easy way made the doctor frown: but he looked
at the boy's appearance, and in the belief that he would soon change the
manners to match, he nodded, and said, "Yes."

Helen looked at her father, as if asking him what next, but the doctor
joined his finger-tips and frowned, as if thinking deeply.

"Dexter and I have been filling his drawers with his new clothes and
linen," she said.

"Yes; such a lot of things," cried the boy; "and is that always to be my
bedroom?"

"Yes; that's to be your room,"