Dot, becoming aware of the position of affairs, determined to make the most of her opportunity. Tears stopped, and she studied Mrs. Cragg from a fresh point of view. "Ma-ma tell a tory," was the result of these observations. "I don't know any stories." Another break. "Ma-ma tell a tory," came again. Mrs. Cragg actually started off in an attempt at compliance. "Well, once upon a time," she said, "there was a man, and he went out for a walk. He had to go and see his—oh, his grandmother. And he took some nice new-laid eggs for her, and he—he thought he'd see—" Mrs. Cragg broke down. "Thought he'd see—" repeated Dot encouragingly. "Thought he'd see if he couldn't get his sister to go with him." Another pause. "And did hims sister go?" "Well, no, I don't think she did." Pause again. "That's a toopid tory," said Dot calmly. "Pattie tells oh such lovely, lovely tories." Mrs. Cragg did not like to be compared with Pattie. "Seems to me Pattie does every single thing right in your opinion, Dot." Dot's look was of assent. Mrs. Cragg had exhausted her powers of invention, and the "tory" advanced no further. Dot, not finding it of interest, did not ask more. She lay silent, her eyes roving, on the watch for Pattie. Mrs. Cragg fidgeted about the room, gazed out of the window, and walked to the table, where she found a slip of paper fastened to the pin-cushion. On the slip was written, "Dot's medicine—at half-past eleven, half-past three, and half-past six." "Why, it's over the time," she said. "Pattie seems in no hurry to come back. Where does she keep your medicine?" Mrs. Cragg was glad to escape any more "tory-telling." Dot's little finger pointed vaguely towards the mantelshelf. Mrs. Cragg walked thither, not noting that Dot's finger was now directed towards the cupboard. "Ah, here's the bottle," she muttered, as she took up one with eight divisions into doses marked upon it. "What queer-looking stuff! That's Mr. May's concern, not mine. I don't believe Dot needs such a lot of medicine." She carried bottle and glass to the small table near the bed. "I not like it," declared Dot. "Nor I won't take it till Pattie tomes." "Nonsense! You'll take it, of course, if I give it to you. You've got to be a good girl." Mrs. Cragg was out of patience with Pattie's admirers. She had seen the nurse administer Dot's medicine, and had once poured out a dose herself, the nurse standing by, so she felt secure as to quantities. Besides, the bottle was marked into doses. The liquid did not look as she would have expected from her recollections; but Dot's medicine had been once or twice changed, and Mrs. Cragg's mind was too much bent in another direction to allow of her noting details. She was growing annoyed with the length of Pattie's absence. The door opened to admit—not Pattie, as at first Mrs. Cragg hoped, but the untidy maid-of-all-work. "Mrs. Smithers wants to see yer," she announced.