"Ask him," whispered John, as the stranger slowly opened his eyes.
Charley advanced, then retreated a step—then, won by the beaming smile which irradiated the stranger's face, he asked,
"Did you come here to see my Aunt Gertrude's pictures?"
"No," replied the stranger, with the same bright smile.
"Did you come to see John?"
"No, my dear."
"Did you come to see me?"
"Yes."
"What did you come to see me, for?"