Nevertheless, one may believe, without going widely astray, that illness, so far from veiling, more often quickens the perceptions--at any rate those of the naturally keen. On a later day--and the interval was brief--while Molly was on her second drive to take the air with Mrs. Taylor, that lady informed her that the sick man had noticed. “And I could not tell him things liable to disturb him,” said she, “and so I--well, I expect I just didn’t exactly tell him the facts. I said yes, you were packing up for a little visit to your folks. They had not seen you for quite a while, I said. And he looked at those boxes kind of silent like.” “There’s no need to move him,” said Molly. ‘“It is simpler to move them--the boxes. I could take out some of my things, you know, just while he has to be kept there. I mean--you see, if the doctor says the room should be cheerful--” “Yes, deary.” “I will ask the doctor next time,” said Molly, “if he believes I am--competent to spread a rug upon a floor.” Molly’s references to the doctor were usually acid these days. And this he totally failed to observe, telling her when he came, why, to be sure! the very thing! And if she could play cards or read aloud, or afford any other light distractions, provided they did not lead the patient to talk and tire himself, that she would be most useful. Accordingly she took over the cribbage board, and came with unexpected hesitation face to face again with the swarthy man she had saved and tended. He was not so swarthy now, but neat, with chin clean, and hair and mustache trimmed and smooth, and he sat propped among pillows watching for her. “You are better,” she said, speaking first, and with uncertain voice. “Yes. They have given me awdehs not to talk,” said the Southerner, smiling. “Oh, yes. Please do not talk--not to-day.” “No. Only this”--he looked at her, and saw her seem to shrink--“thank you for what you have done,” he said simply. She took tenderly the hand he stretched to her; and upon these terms they set to work at cribbage. She won, and won again, and the third time laid down her cards and reproached him with playing in order to lose. “No,” he said, and his eye wandered to the boxes. “But my thoughts get away from me. I’ll be strong enough to hold them on the cyards next time, I reckon.” Many tones in his voice she had heard, but never the tone of sadness until to-day. Then they played a little more, and she put away the board for this first time. “You are going now?” he asked. “When I have made this room look a little less forlorn. They haven’t wanted to meddle with my things, I suppose.” And Molly stooped once again among the chattels destined for Vermont. Out they came; again the bearskin was spread on the floor, various possessions and ornaments went back into their ancient niches, the shelves grew comfortable with books, and, last, some flowers were stood on the table. “More like old times,” said the Virginian, but sadly.