"I'll put these by the bed so that if there's any reason for you to get up you can do so easily. But unless something happens to change our plans, you're much too sick to get up to-day."
A knock sounded at the door into the sitting room. Rockwell answered it and returned grinning.
"Aunt Mary says that Simpson shall bring you some ham and a cup of coffee as soon as you're in bed. Why didn't you tell me you have had nothing to eat but grapefruit?"
"I had forgotten," said Merriam, realising nevertheless that he was very hungry.
Rockwell dropped into a comfortable chair. "It's rather good fun," he said. "This conspiracy business. I do hope we can pull it through."
By this time Merriam was inside the senatorial pajamas. He approached the bed, turned down the covers, and awkwardly climbed in, feeling for all the world like a little boy who has been sent to bed in the daytime for being naughty.
"Now about lights," said Rockwell rising. The window shades had not been raised; they were using the chandelier. "Not these center lights, nor the night lamp. Both are too bright on your face in case---- Let's try this side light."
He turned on a light on the wall on the other side of Merriam's bed, switched off the ceiling lights, and surveyed the effect.
"That's good," he said. "If we have to bring any one in, you can lie looking this way and still your face will be in shadow. Lie well down in with the covers up to your chin. Now I'll bring you some breakfast."
Merriam, left alone for a minute, wished he had been permitted to finish his breakfast in the sitting room before being sent to bed. He had counted on that breakfast, and the first course had been fully as delightful as he had pictured it.