open it if he wakens during the night. Understand?"

"I can't say I do, Dr. Parris."

"You will," he promised. "I'll take that basket and its contents when I
come around for my morning call. Unless," he told her grimly, "I can see
my way to make the prescription stick."

It was with the utmost anxiety that Miss Beaver awaited the coming that
night of old Mr. Wiley. The day nurse had told her that Frank had eaten
a good lunch and what for him was a hearty supper. He had agreed to
sleep if he were awakened the moment Spot arrived, and Miss Beaver had
accepted his whispered offer. To her relief, he fell asleep immediately,
natural color on his thin cheeks.

Mr. Wiley's light tap came on the door panel. She met his grave smile
with a soft exclamation of welcome. The small dog was tucked under one
arm and he paused to warn her with that admonitory touch of one finger
to his lips that the secret of his visits must be preserved. She nodded
comprehension, leaned over the sleeping boy and whispered softly in his
ear.

He stirred, opened drowsy eyes. Then he pulled himself up on his pillow,
reaching thin hands out to the spotted dog which nipped playfully at
him.

"Isn't he wonderful? When may I have him all the time?"

"When you're well and don't need a night nurse," promised Miss Beaver
rashly and was rewarded by a broad smile from the courtly old gentleman
who tipped back his white-maned head and laughed silently but
whole-heartedly.

"I'll get well at once, nurse. Don't you think I might be well enough
tomorrow? Or the day after? Not," he added politely, making Miss
Beaver's heart ache with his childish apology, "not that I want you to
leave, you know."

"That will be for the doctor to decide, Frank. But the more you eat and
sleep and grow happy in your heart, the faster you'll get well," advised
Miss Beaver earnestly.

For a long happy hour young Frank fraternized with the fox-terrier while
the old gentleman sat silently observing him, a grimly humorous smile
hovering about his firm lips. Then the boy's eyes began to cloud
sleepily and much to Miss Beaver's surprise and pleasure Frank
relinquished his canine playmate and fell asleep, a blissful smile
curving his childish mouth as he breathed with soft regularity.

Then old Mr. Wiley picked up the puppy, tucked it under one blue-clad
arm and again admonishing Miss Beaver with a finger athwart his lips,
tiptoed from the room, closing the door behind very gently.