t over and picked up
the dog, tucked it under his blue-sleeved arm and went across the room
to the door. He did not speak but Miss Beaver received the vivid
impression that his visit would be repeated the following night; it was
as if her sensitive intuitions could receive and register a wordless
message from that other sympathetic soul.

The following morning found the lad refreshed and improved. His first
waking thought was for the dog and in reply to his cautiously whispered
inquiry Miss Beaver whispered back that his grandfather (the strong
family resemblance made her sure it had been the boy's wise grandfather
who had found a means of rousing the child from an all-but-fatal
lethargy) had taken it with him but would bring it again that night.
Miss Beaver wondered at herself for promising this but felt somehow sure
that old Mr. Wiley would bring the pup without fail. She believed that
she had read indomitable determination in those piercing black eyes; she
knew inwardly that he would not rest until he had found that thing which
would give young Frank renewed interest in living.

Although the child appeared, if anything, a trifle less apathetic the
following day and Miss Beaver felt that each succeeding visit of old Mr.
Wiley with the fox-terrier would give the lad another push toward
convalescence, yet the nurse did not feel inclined to mention openly
that secret visit in the dead of night. The old gentleman's finger
tapping his gravely smiling lips was one thing that restrained her; the
other was the irritation betrayed, ingenuously enough, by the boy's
mother during her early morning visit to the sickroom.

* * * * *

Young Mrs. Wiley looked especially pretty in a pleated jade sports
skirt, a white pullover sweater, a jade beret on her fair hair. Under
one arm she carried a small white Pomeranian about whose neck flared a
matching wide jade satin bow.

"Well, how is Francis this morning?" she inquired briskly with the
determined manner of one dutifully performing an unpleasant task. "He
looks better, doesn't he?"

Miss Beaver, to whom this inquiry was addressed, nodded shortly.

The boy did not look at his pretty young mother after his first
indifferent glance as she entered the room. He lay in silence with
closed eyes and compressed lips, a most unchildlike expression on his
thin boyish face.

"Look, Francis! See how sweet Kiki looks with this big green bow!"

Mrs. Wiley d