Jack went softly out and turned his steps toward the room of the other wreck. “Well, how are stocks to-day?” he asked cheerfully on entering. Burnett was stretched out pillowless and looked black under his hollow eyes. But he appeared to be on the road to recovery. “Jack,” he said seriously, “what in thunder makes me always so ready to go on the water? I should think after a while I’d learn a thing or two.” Jack leaned his elbows on the high carved footboard and returned his friend’s look with one of equal seriousness. “What makes all of us do lots of things?” he asked. “Why don’t we all learn?” Burnett sighed. “That’s a fact; why don’t we?” he said weakly. And then he shut his eyes again and turned his back to his caller. Jack went down to lunch. Clover and Mitchell were playing cards in the library. “Well, how is the hospital?” Clover asked, looking up while he shuffled the pack. “Never mind about Burnett,” said Mitchell, “but do relieve my mind about Aunt Mary. Is the one sheet still taking effect, or has she begun to rally on a diet of two?” “She’s asleep,” said the nephew. “God bless her slumber,” declared Clover piously. “I very much approve of Aunt Mary asleep. When our dearly beloved aunt sleeps we know we’ve got her and we don’t have to yell. Shall I deal for three?” “They are bringing up lunch,” said the latest arrival,—“no time to begin a hand. Better stack guns for the present.” “So say I,” said Mitchell, “with me everything goes down when lunch comes up. It’s quite the reverse with Burnett, isn’t it?” He laughed brutally at his own wit. “To think how enthusiastic Burr was,” said Clover, evening the cards preparatory to slipping them into their holder on the side of the table. “He’s always so enthusiastic and he’s always so sick. In his place I should feel that, if a buoyant nature is a virtue, I didn’t get much reward.” The gong sounded just then, and they all went down to lunch, not at all saddened by the sight of their comrade’s empty chair. “Now, what are we going to do next?” Clover demanded as they finished the bouillon. “Have a meat course, I suppose,” said Mitchell. “I don’t mean that; I mean, what are we going to do next with Aunt Mary?” “She hasn’t but two days more,” said Jack meditatively. “Of course—even if she was all chipper—this storm has knocked any picnic endways.” “I am not an ardent upholder of picnics, anyhow,” said Mitchell. “They require a constant sitting down on the ground and getting up from the ground to which I find our respected aunt very far from being equal. Burnett mentioned that we should go to the scene on a coach. That also did not meet my approval. Going anywhere on a coach requires a constant getting up on the coach and getting down from the coach to which I also consider the lady unequal. The events of yesterday have left a deep impression on my mind. I—” “Go on and carve,” interrupted Clover, “or else shove me the platter. I’m hungry.”