arms. Then, if you feel comfortable, I'll
take a nap myself."

"To be sure. And are you going to stay all day?" wistfully.

"Of course, and to-morrow too, perhaps."

She folded her work in deft fashion, putting thimble and thread away in
a bag which, in time, became something of a marvel to Gus, who declared
a man never wanted anything but she'd find it in that bag; then went
about preparing breakfast, and soon Gus was sipping what seemed like
nectar to the poor fellow, who was used to decoctions that might have a
name, but neither looked nor tasted like any known drink.

"Well, that _is_ coffee!" he cried gratefully. "Say, Mrs.----"

"Keep," she interposed quietly.

"Mrs. Keep, I don't like to be prying, but--but, you understand, I'm
poor? I can't pay much, and you're way up in your business, I see.
Perhaps----"

She smiled in motherly fashion.

"Don't bother your head about that. I am paid, and well paid. You are
simply to take things as they come, and hurry to get well. I'm glad to
see you can eat."

"Eat? It would be a queer man that couldn't with such a breakfast before
him! I guess some fairy must have blessed my cradle when I was born. I
never knew, before, I was heir to good luck. Well, there might be worse
things than burned hands. Now do me up in fresh rags, Mother Keep, and
you shall have as long a nap as you like. I won't even sneeze if you say
not."

Mother Keep stayed a week, and left Gus well on the way to a perfect
cure, with no scars remaining as a record of his awkwardness. She often
talked with the lad, finding it easy to probe him. He talked ardently of
his one love, the study of architecture, showing her many plans, and
explaining how he saved every penny to spend it in lessons at the
Institute, and in materials for this absorbing work. One of these
plans--that of a small church, simple in design, yet with real elegance
of outline and convenience of arrangement, impressed her greatly.

"I wish you would let me take this away with me," she said. "I will
return it after a little."

Gus, who would have almost taken off one of the fast-healing arms for
her, had she asked it, assented at once, inwardly hoping she would not
soil the beautiful drawing, nor, womanlike, forget all about returning
it. When she left, it went with her, and Gus missed both the woman and
the drawing that evening. He might indeed have been really melancholy,
but some of the boys came in and rather drove away the gen