with closed book, looking at his face as he slept. It was a
curious study to her, a young man--_this_ young man, asleep. His brown
lashes lay on his cheek as placid as those of a child. As she looked she
gained courage to go over softly and peer down on him. How boyish he
seemed! How little to be feared! A boy outside uttered a shout, and she
hurried away, pale and breathless. As she paused in the door and looked
back at the undisturbed sleeper, she smiled, and the pink came back into
her thin face.

Albert's superb young blood began to assert itself, and on the afternoon
of the fifth day he was able to sit in his rocking-chair before the fire
and read a little, though he professed that his eyes were not strong, in
order that Maud should read for him. This she did as often as she could
leave her other work, which was "not half often enough," the invalid
grumbled.

"More than you deserve," she found courage to say.

Hartley let nothing interfere with the book business. "You take it
easy," he repeated. "Don't you worry--your pay goes on just the same.
You're doing well right where you are. By jinks! biggest piece o' luck,"
he went on, half in earnest. "Why, I can't turn around without taking an
order--fact! Turned in a book on the livery bill, so that's all fixed.
We'll make a clear hundred dollars out o' that little bump o' yours."

"Little bump! Say, now, that's--"

"Keep it up--put it on! Don't hurry about getting well. I don't need you
to canvass, and I guess you enjoy being waited on." He ended with a sly
wink and cough.

Yes, convalescence was delicious, with Maud reading to him, bringing his
food, and singing for him; all that marred his peace was the stream of
people who came to inquire how he was getting along. The sympathy was
largely genuine, as Hartley could attest, but it bored the invalid. He
had rather be left in quiet with Walter Scott and Maud. In the light of
common day the accident was hurrying to be a dream.

At the end of a week he was quite himself again, though he still had
difficulty in wearing his hat. It was not till the second Sunday after
the accident that he appeared in the dining-room for the first time,
with a large travelling-cap concealing the suggestive bandages. He
looked pale and thin, but his eyes danced with joy.

Maud's eyes dilated with instant solicitude. The rest sprang up in
surprise, with shouts of delight, as hearty as brethren.

"Ginger! I'm glad t' see yeh!" said Tr