"Your grandfather wants to see you," said Miss Raymond. "You must be very quiet and not stay too long--just five minutes." Five minutes were enough! There was a strange, wrinkled old man, who looked small and shriveled in that big white bed. Her grandfather's eyes had been keen and bright. The eyes of this stranger were dull, sunken, and oh, so tired. "How do you do?" said Jeanne, primly. "I'm--I'm sorry you've been sick." "Better now--I'm better now," quavered a strange voice. "How is the arithmetic?" "Very bad," said Jeanne. "Miss Turner says I plastered a room with two bushels of oats, and measured a barn for an acre of carpet, instead of getting the right number of apples from an orchard. You have to do so _many_ kinds of work in examples, that it's hard to remember whether you're a farmer or a paperhanger. I suppose wet things _would_ run out of a bushel basket, but wet measure and dry measure get all mixed up--" "I think your grandfather is asleep," said the nurse, gently. "You may come again tomorrow." As Mr. Huntington improved, Jeanne's visits grew longer. After a time, he was able to help her again with her lessons. But all that winter, the old man sat in his own room. In February the nurse departed and James took her place. James, who had lived with the family for many years, was fond of Mr. Huntington and served him devotedly. As before, Jeannette spent much time with her grandfather. Also, in obedience to their mother's wishes, the young Huntingtons entered the old man's room, decorously, once a day to say good morning. Neither the children nor Mr. Huntington appeared to enjoy these brief, daily visits. Jeanne was certainly a more considerate visitor. She was ever ready to move his foot-stool a little closer, to peel an orange for him, to find him a book, or to sit quietly beside him while he dozed. One day, in March, he told her where to find some keys and how to fit one of them to a small safe in the corner of his room. "Bring me all the papers in the first pigeon-hole to the left," said he. "It's time I was doing some spring housecleaning." "I love to help," said Jeanne, swiftly obedient. He sorted the papers, dividing them into two piles. "Put these back, and bring me everything in the next hole." Jeanne did that. This operation was repeated until all the papers, many quite yellow with age, had been sorted. "These," said her grandfather, pointing to the documents on the chair beside him, "are of no use. We'll tear them into small pieces and wrap them in this newspaper. That's right. Now, do you think you could go to the furnace and put this bundle right on top of the fire, without dropping a single scrap? Do you know exactly where the furnace is?" "Yes," said Jeanne. "When I first came, I asked Maggie what made the house warm. She said the furnace did. I wanted to see what a furnace _was_, so she showed it to me." "Where is Mrs. Huntington?" "She's out with the girls--at the dressmaker's, I think."