In a state of great delight Joan handed over the eau-de-Cologne to Bella. "But we will have the cork drawn first, for he might be glad to use it at once, and I'll leave the dear little corkscrew in. He'll like to have that, won't he?" "Oh yes, miss," said Bella gratefully; "he's never seen one like that before. Thank you, miss, I'll tell him you sent it." Then Joan had to be carried to the window to look at Rocket and the cart, and see Tom and Bella start on again. "Do you think you will ever sell all you've got there?" she asked, with wondering eyes. "Yes, I think so. I hope so, miss. I've got a good many regular customers now, and p'raps we shall get some more. We're going to try it for a week or two, anyway, just to see." Tom's courage was certainly rewarded, for long before the hour when visiting-time at the hospital began, they had sold out all they had brought, and were able to take good, patient Rocket to the stable and his dinner. They had not counted up their takings yet, but Bella felt sure that there was close on a sovereign in her purse; and they had besides an order for half a sack of potatoes, a bushel of cooking apples, and a pair of fowls. They scarcely knew what to do, they were so delighted. "Oh, Tom, won't father be glad!" Bella kept on saying; "and won't he be surprised when he hears about Rocket! He'll think we are getting on fine, and won't he be pleased about it!" "It'll help to get him better, I reckon," said Tom, with quiet delight. Tom both felt and acted as though he were ten years older than when he was in Norton, a week ago. The shock and the responsibility, acting on his thoughtful, steady nature, had changed him from a boy to a man. Not a sad or too serious man, yet one who felt that he had to act now, not to play; to think out what was for the best, and to do it, and not let things slide, or take their chance, and he took up his responsibilities with a brave and cheerful spirit. There was no self-pity about Tom; it never entered his head to think he was ill-used or hard-worked. "'Tisn't any hardship, ma'am," he said brightly, when Mrs. Adamson condoled with them on all they had to do, now they were left alone. "I like work better than play. You feel then that you'm doing something. I get tired of play. I like a game of cricket or football, but I mean the other sort of play." Bella, who remembered only too well the dull, miserable years when Aunt Emma did not like her to play, and would not let her work, agreed with Tom heartily. "Yes, I like work better than play too," she said emphatically. "I think it's fine to have a lot to do. There isn't anything makes you so miserable as doing nothing."