“That’s good,” she said, nodding.  “They mean for you just to build up your strength.  That’s what they told me the last time I went to see you at the sanitarium.  You look better than what you did then, and that’s only a little time ago.  How long was it?”

“Eight months, I think.”

“No, it couldn’t be.  I know it ain’t that long, but maybe it was longer’n I thought.  And this last month or so I haven’t had scarcely even time to write more than just a line to ask how you were gettin’ along, but I told Edith to write, the weeks I couldn’t, and I asked Jim to, too, and they both said they would, so I suppose you’ve kept up pretty well on the home news.”

“Oh yes.”

“What I think you need,” said the mother, gravely, “is to liven up a little and take an interest in things.  That’s what papa was sayin’ this morning, after we got your telegram; and that’s what’ll stimilate your appetite, too.  He was talkin’ over his plans for you—­”

“Plans?” Bibbs, turning on his side, shielded his eyes from the light with his hand, so that he might see her better.  “What—­” He paused.  “What plans is he making for me, mother?”

She turned away, going back to the window to draw down the shade.  “Well, you better talk it over with him,” she said, with perceptible nervousness.  “He better tell you himself.  I don’t feel as if I had any call, exactly, to go into it; and you better get to sleep now, anyway.”  She came and stood by the bedside once more.  “But you must remember, Bibbs, whatever papa does is for the best.  He loves his chuldern and wants to do what’s right by all of ’em—­and you’ll always find he’s right in the end.”

He made a little gesture of assent, which seemed to content her; and she rustled to the door, turning to speak again after she had opened it.  “You get a good nap, now, so as to be all rested up for to-night.”

“You—­you mean—­he—­” Bibbs stammered, having begun to speak too quickly.  Checking himself, he drew a long breath, then asked, quietly, “Does father expect me to come down-stairs this evening?”

“Well, I think he does,” she answered.  “You see, it’s the ’house-warming,’ as he calls it, and he said he thinks all our chuldern ought to be around us, as well as the old friends and other folks.  It’s just what he thinks you need—­to take an interest and liven up.  You don’t feel too bad to come down, do you?”

“Mother?”

“Well?”

“Take a good look at me,” he said.

“Oh, see here!” she cried, with brusque cheerfulness.  “You’re not so bad off as you think you are, Bibbs.  You’re on the mend; and it won’t do you any harm to please your—­”

“It isn’t that,” he interrupted.  “Honestly, I’m only afraid it might spoil somebody’s appetite.  Edith—­”

“I told you the child was too sensitive,” she interrupted, in turn.  “You’re a plenty good-lookin’ enough young man for anybody!  You look like you been through a long spell and begun to get well, and that’s all there is to it.”