At last Mrs. Moffat put her head into the room. "Ah, Master Henderson, my dear," she said, at once appreciating the change in the situation, "so you're better. That's a dear boy"--as though it were highly meritorious in Charlie to have allowed himself to feel better. "Well, now, you must have your cup of coffee to tone you up for your trip. You lie still, while I see about it. There's lots of time yet, and I'm not going to send you home faint and miserable to your mother, and have her say there's nobody at Sylvandale Academy to look after her head-ache-y boy."