I was at Stormfield pretty constantly during the rest of that year.  At first I went up only for the day; but later, when his health did not improve, and when he expressed a wish for companionship evenings, I remained most of the nights as well.  Our rooms were separated only by a bath-room; and as neither of us was much given to sleep, there was likely to be talk or reading aloud at almost any hour when both were awake.  In the very early morning I would usually slip in, softly, sometimes to find him propped up against his pillows sound asleep, his glasses on, the reading-lamp blazing away as it usually did, day or night; but as often as not he was awake, and would have some new plan or idea of which he was eager to be delivered, and there was always interest, and nearly always amusement in it, even if it happened to be three in the morning or earlier.

Sometimes, when he thought it time for me to be stirring, he would call softly, but loudly enough for me to hear if awake; and I would go in, and we would settle again problems of life and death and science, or, rather, he would settle them while I dropped in a remark here and there, merely to hold the matter a little longer in solution.

The pains in his breast came back, and with a good deal of frequency as the summer advanced; also, they became more severe.  Dr. Edward Quintard came up from New York, and did not hesitate to say that the trouble proceeded chiefly from the heart, and counseled diminished smoking, with less active exercise, advising particularly against Clemens’s lifetime habit of lightly skipping up and down stairs.

There was no prohibition as to billiards, however, or leisurely walking, and we played pretty steadily through those peaceful summer days, and often took a walk down into the meadows or perhaps in the other direction, when it was not too warm or windy.  Once we went as far as the river, and I showed him a part of his land he had not seen before—­a beautiful cedar hillside, remote and secluded, a place of enchantment.  On the way I pointed out a little corner of land which earlier he had given me to straighten our division line.  I told him I was going to build a study on it, and call it “Markland.”  He thought it an admirable building-site, and I think he was pleased with the name.  Later he said: 

“If you had a place for that extra billiard-table of mine [the Rogers table, which had been left in New York] I would turn it over to you.”

I replied that I could adapt the size of my proposed study to fit a billiard-table, and he said: 

“Now that will be very good.  Then, when I want exercise, I can walk down and play billiards with you, and when you want exercise you can walk up and play billiards with me.  You must build that study.”

So it was we planned, and by and by Mr. Lounsbury had undertaken the work.