the query which had sent
him stumbling across to it. The bandage was comparatively small and
tightly drawn; a soft hat could be worn over it--the hat would cover and
decently hide it.

Next he found his clothes, those he had been wearing at the time of the
accident. Somebody had been thoughtful enough to have them cleaned and
pressed; from which he argued that the plunging fall on the wet asphalt
had been demoralizing in more ways than one. Continuing the experimental
venture, he walked back and forth and up and down until he could do it
without clutching at the bed-rails to save himself from falling. Then he
reshot the door-bolts and went back to bed to await developments.

The first of these came when Patricia brought his luncheon. He had been
wondering if she would be the one to come; wondering and hoping. With
the unfilial purpose driving him on, there were added twinges at the
thought of his father's wife going on piling the mountain of obligation
higher and still higher by waiting upon him, and thus reminding him at
every turn of the adder fable. With Patricia it was different.

"Good morning," he grimaced, when Patricia came in with the daintily
appointed server. "Getting a bit more of the first-aid practice, are
you?"

"I am obeying orders," she flashed back, when she had shaken up the
pillows and placed the appetizing meal within his reach. "Mrs. Blount
said I'd probably have a less disturbing influence upon you than she
would. Shall I feed you?"

"Good heavens, no! I'm not that near dead, I hope! If you don't believe
it, you may sit down and watch me eat--if you're not missing your own
luncheon."

"Nurses have no regular meal-times," she retorted. And then: "You are
feeling a great deal better, aren't you?"

"Much better--since you came. Did they tell you it was a dog?"

She nodded, and he went on.

"It was my unlucky night, I guess. Did the fire burn up my office? I
forgot to ask Mrs. Blount about that."

"No; it was a building across the street from the Temple Court."

"'Small favors thankfully received,'" he quoted, resolutely pushing a
fresh recurrence of the tomtom beatings into the background; "small
favors and larger ones in proportion--this broth, for example. It's
simply delicious. I hadn't realized how hungry I was."

"The broth ought to be good; I made it myself, you know."

"You did? Where, for pity's sake?"

"In the hotel kitchen. The _chef_ was furious at first. He twirled his
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