lf as if it must be all
dream. How glad I am to find you able to be dressed. Doctor Burns says
you will go home to-day, too."

"This evening, I believe. I thought you were not going till then
either."

"This very hour." She glanced at Mrs. Burns. "My good fairy begged that
I might go early, because it is her little son's birthday. I am to be
at a real party; think of that!"

"The Little-Un's or Bob's?" King asked his other visitor.

Bob was an adopted child, taken by Burns before his marriage, but the
little Chester's parents made no difference between them, and a birthday
celebration for the older boy was sure to be quite as much of an
occasion as for the two-year-old.

"Bob's," Mrs. Burns explained. "He is ten; we can't believe it. And he
has set his heart on having Miss Linton at home for his party. He has
read her little book almost out of its covers, and she has been doing
some place-cards for his guests--the prettiest things!" Ellen opened a
small package she was carrying and showed King the cards.

He gazed at them approvingly. "They're the jolliest I ever saw; the
youngsters will be crazy over them. For a convalescent it strikes me
Miss Linton has been the busiest known to the hospital."

"You, yourself, have kept me rather busy, Mr. King," the girl observed.

"So I have. I'm wondering what I'm to do when you are at Doctor Burns's
and I at home."

She smiled. "I shall be there only a week if I keep on gaining as fast
as I am now."

"A fortnight," interpolated Mrs. Burns, "is the earliest possible date
of your leaving us. And not then unless we think you fit."

"Did you ever know of such kindness?" Anne Linton asked softly of King.
"To a perfect stranger?"

He nodded. "Nothing you could tell me of their kindness could surprise
me. About that fortnight--would it be asking a great deal of you to keep
on sending me that daily note?"

"Isn't there a telephone in your own room at home?" she asked.

"Yes--how did you know?"

"I guessed it. Wouldn't a little telephone talk do quite as well--or
better--than a letter?"

"It would be very nice," admitted King. "But I should hate to do without
the letter. The days are each a month long at present, you know, and
each hour is equal to twenty-four. Make it a letter, too, will you,
please?"

Miss Linton looked at Mrs. Burns. "Do you think circumstances still
alter cases?" she inquired.

Her profile, as King caught it again, struck him as a perfect outlin