"Anyhow, I'm not thinking about my head in that way—not this morning, I'm not."
Mrs. Adams dropped the subject casually. "Are you going down-town?" she inquired.
"Yes."
"What for?"
"Just something I want to see about. I'll tell you when I come back. Anything you want me to do?"
"No; I guess not to-day. I thought you might look for a rug, but I'd rather go with you to select it. We'll have to get a new rug for your father's room, I expect."
"I'm glad you think so, mama. I don't suppose he's ever even noticed it, but that old rug of his—well, really!"
"I didn't mean for him," her mother explained, thoughtfully. "No; he don't mind it, and he'd likely make a fuss if we changed it on his account. No; what I meant—we'll have to put your father in Walter's room. He won't mind, I don't expect—not much."
"No, I suppose not," Alice agreed, rather sadly. "I heard the bell awhile ago. Was it somebody about that?"
"Yes; just before I came upstairs. Mrs. Lohr gave
