When he came downstairs there was no one in the sitting room and he had an opportunity to look about.  It was a pleasant apartment, that sitting room, especially on a morning like this, with the sunshine streaming in through the eastern windows, windows full of potted plants set upon wire frames, with hanging baskets of trailing vines and a canary in a cage about them.  There were more plants in the western windows also, for the sitting room occupied the whole width of the house at that point.  The pictures upon the wall were almost all of the sea, paintings of schooners, and one of the “Barkentine Hawkeye, of Boston.  Captain James Phipps, leaving Surinam, August 12, 1872.”  The only variations from the sea pictures were a “crayon-enlarged” portrait of a sturdy man with an abundance of unruly gray hair and a chin beard, and a chromo labeled “Sunset at Niagara Falls.”  The portrait bore sufficient resemblance to Miss Martha Phipps to warrant Galusha’s guess that it was intended to portray her father, the “Cap’n Jim” of whom the doctor had spoken.  The chromo of “Sunset at Niagara Falls” was remarkable chiefly for its lack of resemblance either to Niagara or a sunset.

He was inspecting this work of art when Miss Phipps entered the room.  She was surprised to see him.

“Mercy on us!” she exclaimed.  “What in the world are you doin’ downstairs here?”

Galusha blushed guiltily and hastened to explain that he was feeling quite himself, really, and so had, of course, risen and—­ ah—­dressed.

“But I do hope, Miss Phipps,” he added, “that I haven’t kept you waiting breakfast.  I’m afraid I have.”

She laughed at the idea.  “Indeed you haven’t,” she declared.  “If you don’t mind my sayin’ so, Mr. Bangs, the angel Gabriel couldn’t keep me waitin’ breakfast till half past nine on a Saturday mornin’.  Primmie and I were up at half-past six sharp.  That is, I got up then and Primmie was helped up about five minutes afterward.  But what I want to know,” she went on, “is why you got up at all.  Didn’t the doctor say you were to stay abed until he came?”

“Why—­why, yes, I believe he did, but you see—­you see—­”

“Never mind.  The main thing is that you are up and must be pretty nearly starved.  Sit right down, Mr. Bangs.  Your breakfast will be ready in two shakes.”

“But Miss Phipps, I wish you wouldn’t trouble about my breakfast.  I feel—­”

“I know how you feel; that is, I know how I should feel if I hadn’t eaten a thing but toast-bread since yesterday mornin’.  Sit down, Mr. Bangs.”

She hastened from the room.  Galusha, the guilty feeling even more pronounced, sat down as requested.  Five minutes afterward she returned to tell him that breakfast was ready.  He followed her to the dining room, another comfortable, sunshiny apartment, where Primmie, grinning broadly, served him with oatmeal and boiled eggs and hot biscuits and coffee.  He was eating when Doctor Powers’ runabout drove up.