e."

"That's pleasant news. I was sure that he would recover." Eleanor
caught an unconsidered expression, no more than a glint and a
drooping, in Kate's eyes. This answer, so calm, so entirely
unemotional, had touched curiosity if nothing more. But Kate chirped
on:

"I'm playing Mama's little household fairy--how do you like the way I
dress the part? I sent for these clothes last night. Now you're to
lie abed and let me bring you your breakfast. Are you rested, dear? It
was enough to kill two women!"

"Quite rested, I think."

Kate opened the window, bustled about putting the room to rights.

"Shall I bring your coffee now?" she asked at last.

"Yes, thank you."

Kate was back in ten minutes with table and tray. Whatever she did had
an individuality, a touch. That tray, for example--nothing could have
been better conceived to tempt the appetite. She set out the breakfast
and remained to pour coffee and to talk.

"And isn't it good--mustn't you be thankful--that it won't leave him
lame or disfigured or anything like that! His shoulder may be weak,
but what does a man need of shoulders after he's quit football?"

Eleanor just glanced over her coffee-cup, but she made no answer. Kate
turned her course.

"Won't you let me open your egg for you?"

"No, thank you." Then, "You're very kind, Kate."

"I am the original ray of light. Do let me fix those pillows. You're
going to lie in bed all the morning, you know. Shall I bring you the
papers? You should see them! They've got you a heroine."

"Me!" Now Eleanor showed animation.

"Oh, not you. We've all kept the secret well. You're a mystery, a
pretty shop-girl to the rescue. I hope the weeklies don't find the
real story."

"I hope so."

Kate rose, made another pretense at setting things right in the room,
and moved toward the door. A relief, a lowering of tension, came over
Eleanor. But at the threshold, Kate turned.

"Oh, I nearly forgot! They sent up from Mr. Northrup's office this
morning for some documents or deeds or something which they thought
Mr. Chester might have in his pockets. The nurse brought out his
clothes so that Mrs. Tiffany and I might go through them--I felt like
a pickpocket. And we came across a package of proofs--photographs of
him. We opened it to see if the old deeds might be in there. And
they're such stunning likenesses--Muller, you know--that I thought it
would do you good to see them."

"Thank you, I should like to."

Kate