"I don't want you," muttered the old gentleman, feebly, turning his
head away from Tom, and then he set his lips tightly together. But he
held to Polly's hand.

"You would better go out," Dr. Jones nodded to Tom. "It excites him."

The second time Tom was told to go. He stood quite still. "He's my
Grandfather!" he blurted out.

"Can't help it," said Dr. Jones, curtly; "he's my patient. So I tell
you again it is imperative that you leave this room." Then he turned
back to his work of making the sick man comfortable without taking any
more notice of the boy.

Tom gave a good long look at as much of his Grandfather's face as he
could see, then slunk out, in a dazed condition, trying to make himself
as small as possible. Jasper found him a half hour afterward, hanging
over the rail away from curious eyes, his head buried on his arms.

"I thought you'd like to know that your Grandfather is better," said
Jasper, touching the bent shoulder.

"Get away, will you?" growled Tom, kicking out his leg, unmindful where
it struck.

"And the doctor has gotten him into his state-room, and he is as
comfortable as he could be made." Jasper didn't add that Dr. Jones had
asked him to come back, and that the old man was still insisting that
Polly should hold his hand.