“Have we been very long, papa?  I hope you have not been lonesome or wanted anything.  They kept us so long looking at the things in the store that I was getting anxious, fearing Jarvis would be too busy to see after you,” and she smoothed back his hair and stooped to kiss his forehead.  “What shall I do for you before I go to change my dress?”

“Nothing at all.”  But noticing that Dexie was regarding the daily papers on the table, added, “Oh, yes! just hand me those papers; I was wishing I could reach them.  There, that is all! be off! be off with you and change your gown, if you want to!” playfully shoving her at arm’s-length, for he was afraid she was going to ask who had left the papers there.

“They were to-day’s papers,” she said to herself, as she went to her room.  “Who could have left them?  Surely he was not here, for we met him down street.  Papa would have mentioned it at once if he had called, yet those papers were left here by someone since we went out.”

Thus reasoning to herself, Dexie put on her house-dress, intending to return to her father’s room and ask who had called during the afternoon, but second thoughts prevented her, and she turned to the kitchen to see what had been provided for her father’s supper, or to prepare, if need be, some little extra dainty to tempt his failing appetite.

Mr. Sherwood unfolded the papers Dexie had laid before him, but they failed to claim his attention; the events of the afternoon still had possession of his thoughts.

“Traverse has told on himself by leaving these here, but perhaps she did not notice the date, and there are always papers lying around the room.  I will not let her question me about them.”

But Dexie acted as if the matter had passed from her mind.  She was as gay as a lark, giving him bits of news she had heard while she was out, telling him of the things she had seen during her walk that she thought might interest him, even trifles which seemed hardly worth speaking about; but when one is confined indoors, the veriest trifle of outside life is welcome, so Gussie need not have curled her lip so scornfully when Dexie was relating the sights of the afternoon.

“Just think, papa,” Dexie added, taking no heed to these silent objections so plainly visible, “they have put new steps before the door of your old office, and a new ‘No admittance’ card is tacked on the inside door, and the place is being all spruced up.  The painters have got to work at the old Baptist church; it is to be repaired inside and out—­quite time, too, for it looks as if it had been exposed to the weather ever since the Flood!  Mitchell’s tailor shop has two new figures in the window, and, judging by the styles displayed, the latest style of coat is much cut away and would suit you exactly.  But if you want to dress in the very latest style, you must also have a gorgeous plaid necktie.  Shall I buy you one, papa?”

“Why, Dexie; how silly you talk,” said her mother severely.  “What does your father need with new neck-ties while he is lying there on his back?”