"Yes," answered she. "They're all down at din—supper. Shall I call them?"
"No," said he. "I want to go down to her room."
"To Miss Jane's room?" asked the puzzled nurse.
"To my wife's room," said Hastings crossly.
The nurse, a stranger, thought his mind was wandering. "Certainly," said she soothingly. "In a few minutes—as soon as you've rested a while."
"You're a fool!" mumbled Hastings. "Call Jinny."
The nurse obeyed. When he repeated his request to Jane, she hesitated. The tears rolled down his cheeks. "I know what I'm about," he pleaded. "Send for Charlton. He'll tell you to let me have my way."
Jane decided that it was best to yield. The shrunken figure, weighing so little that it was terrifying to lift it, was wrapped warmly, and put in an invalid chair. With much difficulty the chair was got out into the hall and down the stairs. Then they wheeled it into the room where he was in the habit of sitting after supper. When he was opposite the atrocious crayon enlargement of his wife an expression of supreme content settled upon his features. Said he:
"Go back to your supper, Jinny. Take the nurse woman with you. I want to be by myself."
The nurse glanced stealthily in from time to time during the next hour. She saw that his eyes were open, were fixed upon the picture. When Jane came she ventured to enter. She said: