"How is Mr. Thane today, Charlie?" she inquired, after introducing him to the Blythes. Charlie pursed his lips and looked wise. "Well, all I can say is, he's doing as well as could be expected. Temperature normal, pulse fluctuating, appetite good, respiration improved by a good many cusswords, mustard plaster itching like all get out,--but otherwise he's at the point of death. I was in to see him after breakfast. He was sitting up in bed and getting ready to tell Doc Smith what he thinks of him for ordering him to stay in the house till he says he can go out. He is terribly upset because he can't get up to Alix's to see you, Mr. Blythe. I never saw a feller so cut up about a thing as he is." "He must not think of coming out in this kind of weather," cried Alix firmly. "It would be--" "Oh, he's not thinking of coming out," interrupted Charlie quietly. "I am sorry not to have met him," said Blythe. "We probably have a lot of mutual friends." A queer little light flashed into Charlie Webster's eyes and lingered for an instant. "He's terribly anxious to meet you. It wouldn't surprise me at all if he got up today sometime and in spite of Doc Smith hustled over to call on you. I'll tell you what we might do, Alix. If Mr. Blythe isn't going to be too busy, I might take him up to see Court,--that is, when you get back from your drive. I know he'll appreciate it, and be tickled almost to death." "Fine!" cried Blythe. "If you're sure he will not mind, Mr. Webster." "Why should he mind? He says he's crazy to meet you, and he's able to see people--" "But I've always understood that talking was very painful to any one suffering from pleurisy," protested Alix. "Doesn't seem to hurt Court very much," declared Charlie. "He nearly talked an arm off of me and Furman Hatch this morning,--and it certainly seemed to be a real pleasure for him to cuss. I really think he'll get well quicker if you drop in for a chat with him, Mr. Blythe." "It would be very nice," said Alix warmly, "if you could run in for a few minutes--" "Sure I will," cried the young man. "This afternoon, Mr. Webster,--about half-past two?" "Any time suits me," said the obliging Mr. Webster. As if struck by something irresistibly funny, he suddenly put his hand to his mouth and got very red in the face. After an illy-suppressed snort or two, he coughed violently, and then stammered: "Excuse me. I was just thinking about--er--about something funny. I'm always doing some fool thing like that. This was about Ed Jones's dog,--wouldn't be the least bit funny to anybody but me, so I won't tell you about it. Two-thirty it is, then? I'll meet you up at Alix's. It's only a step." "Will you tell Mr. Thane that you are bringing Mr. Blythe to see him this afternoon, Charlie?" said Alix. "You said he was threatening to disobey the doctor's--" "You leave it to me, Alix," broke in Charlie reassuringly. "Trust me to see that he don't escape."