He had grown a good deal during his illness, and his face had become whiter and more refined; his hair, too, was cut to a proper length, and parted down the side, no longer lying about his head in a tangled mass.

He coloured up with pleasure as Mr.
Ross looked approvingly at him.
"They've lent it me till I go out," he said, with a tone slightly regretful in his voice, "I only wish Dolly could have seen me in it, and her aunt Charlotte.

My own things were too ragged for me to wear 'em in a place like this." "They've given it to you, Antony," replied Mr.Ross, "those are the clothes you will go home in to-morrow." It seemed too much for Tony to believe, though a nurse who was sitting by and sewing away busily, told him it was quite true.

He was intensely happy all the rest of the day, often standing up, and almost straining his neck to get a satisfactory view of his own back, and stroking the nap of his blue trousers with a fondling touch.

They would all see him in it; old Oliver, Dolly, and aunt Charlotte.