pleased note of the
faint color on the boy's cheeks. He smiled with obvious satisfaction. He
lifted his head, met Miss Beaver's pleading eyes, and nodded
emphatically. Then he slackened his hold on whatever he had tucked under
one arm and deposited it at the foot of the bed, meeting Miss Beaver's
questioning eyes with a significant narrowing of his own. She looked at
the thing, then up at him, puzzled. What he had brought in was one of
those huge, plush-covered atrocities with tall ivory letters on the
front that proclaimed it to be a Family Album. She surmised that this
must be the album which the doctor had said she should look over to note
how closely the small boy in the bed resembled his ancestors.

With a light gesture old Mr. Wiley relegated the album to the
background, his glance seeking the fox-terrier that still hesitated in
the middle of the room. Miss Beaver understood. She gently wakened the
small patient, who sat up rubbing sleepy eyes expectantly. The dog,
sensing a play-mate, bounded upon the bed and began lapping at Frank's
eager fingers with small whimperings.

"He loves me. Don't you, Spot? Look, nurse. He has black spots over his
eyes, bigger than I remembered them. And he seems littler tonight,
doesn't he? But he knows me. Gee, I wish I could keep him all the time."

Old Mr. Wiley sat silently in a comfortable chair at the shadowy back of
the room as he had done on his previous visits but his severe old
features softened as he watched the happy child and the antics of the
little dog. When at last Frank's eyes grew humid and heavy with sleep,
and he began to slip down on his pillow, he clung to his canine
playmate, refusing to relinquish the puppy which had cuddled cosily
against him.

Old Mr. Wiley's heavy brows lifted into a straight line over his high
nose. A grimly ironical smile drew up the corners of his mouth. He made
a gesture of resignation. His humorously twinkling eyes met the
consternation in Miss Beaver's but he appeared pleased and unmoved at
the prospect of the dog's remaining with the boy. He rose from his
comfortable chair, drew a deep breath, again touched the admonitory
finger to his lips and withdrew, still smiling. The door closed quietly
behind his stately blue-clad figure.

Miss Beaver told herself agitatedly that he had no business to throw the
onus of the whole situation onto her shoulders; but even while she
resented this high-handed behavior she was inwardly aware wit