His recovery had progressed well enough to permit the departure of Miss Perry; and Adams, wearing one of Mrs.Adams's wrappers over his night-gown, sat in a high-backed chair by a closed window.

The weather was warm, but the closed window and the flannel wrapper had not sufficed him: round his shoulders he had an old crocheted scarf of Alice's; his legs were wrapped in a heavy comfort; and, with these swathings about him, and his eyes closed, his thin and grizzled head making but a slight indentation in the pillow supporting it, he looked old and little and queer.
Alice would have gone out softly, but without opening his eyes, he spoke to her: "Don't go, dearie.

Come sit with the old man a little while." She brought a chair near his.

"I thought you were napping." "No.

I don't hardly ever do that.