Mr. Pryor also had an opinion on that supper-table talk. He said to himself grimly, that Nelly's bread and jam would have been better. But probably bread and jam, followed by young Sam Wright, would have seemed less desirable than Mrs. King's excellent supper. It was about seven when the boy appeared at the Stuffed Animal House. Had Mr. Pryor been at home, Helena would, no doubt, have found some way of dismissing him; as it was, she let him stay. He was bareheaded; he had seen a bird flapping painfully about in the road, and catching it in gentle hands had discovered that its wing was broken, so put it tenderly in his cap and brought it to Mrs. Richie's door. "Poor little thing!" she cried, when he showed it to her. "I wish Mr. Pryor would come back; he would tell us what to do for it." "Oh, is he here?" Sam asked blankly. "Well, not at this moment. He has gone to take tea at Dr. King's." Sam's face lightened with relief. "You mustn't tell anybody you saw me this evening," she charged him gayly. "I didn't go to Mrs. King's because--I had such a very bad headache!" "Is it better?" he asked, so anxiously that she blushed. "Oh, yes, yes. But before tea I--didn't want to go." "I'm glad you didn't," he said, and forgot her in caring for the bird. He ordered a box and some cotton batting--"and give me your handkerchief." As he spoke, he took it from her surprised hand and tore it into strips; then, lifting the broken wing with exquisite gentleness, he bound it into place. She looked at the bandages ruefully, but Sam was perfectly matter-of-course. "It would have been better without lace," he said; "but it will do. Will you look at him sometimes? Just your touch will cure him, I think." Mrs. Richie laughed. "Well, you can laugh, but it's true. When I am near you I have no pain and no worry; nothing but happiness." He sat down beside her on the old claw-footed sofa near the fire, for it was cool enough these spring evenings to have a little fire. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist, and staring into the blaze. Once he put his hand out and touched her dress softly, and smiled to himself. Then abruptly, he came out of his reverie, and spoke with joyous excitement: "Why! I forgot what I came to tell you about--something extraordinary has happened!" "Oh, what?" she demanded, with a sweet eagerness that was as young as his own.