Tony dozed and woke and woke and dozed, getting colder and more forlorn and miserable with each change of position. The sheets seemed made of ice, so slippery were they, so unkind and unyielding and unembracing. Presently he saw a dim light. Auntie Jan had come to bed, carrying a candle. He heard her say good night to the little mem who had met them at the station, and the door was shut. In spite of her passion for fresh air, Jan shivered herself as she undressed. She made a somewhat hasty toilet, said her prayers, peeped round the screen to see that Tony was all right, and hopped into bed, where a hot-water bottle put in by the thoughtful Hannah was most comforting. Presently she heard a faint, attenuated sniff. Again it came, this time accompanied by the ghost of something like a groan. Jan sat up in bed and listened. Immediately all was perfectly still. She lay down again, and again came that sad little sniff, and undoubtedly it was from behind the screen that it came. Had Tony got cold? Jan leapt out of bed, switched on the light and tore away the screen from around his bed. Yes; his doleful little face was tear-stained. "Tony, Tony darling, what is the matter?" "I don't know," he sobbed. "I feel so funny." Jan put her hand on his forehead--far from being hot, the little face was stone-cold. In a moment she had him out of bed and in her warm arms. As she took him she felt the chill of the stiff, unyielding small body. "My precious boy, you're cold as charity! Why didn't you call me long ago? Why didn't you tell Auntie Jan?" "I didn't ... know ... what it was," he sobbed. In no time Tony was put into the big bed, the bed so warm from Auntie Jan's body, with a lovely podgy magic something at his feet that radiated heat. Auntie Jan slammed down the window at the bottom, and then more fairness! She struck a match, there was a curious sort of "plop," and a little fire started in the grate, an amazing little fire that grew redder and redder every minute. Auntie Jan put on a blue dressing-gown over the long white garment that she wore, and bustled about. Tony decided that he "liked to look at her" in this blue robe, with her hair in a great rope hanging down. She was very quick; she fetched a little saucepan and he heard talking in the passage outside, but no one else came in, only Auntie Jan. Presently she gave him milk, warm and sweet, in a blue cup. He drank it and began to feel much happier, drowsy too, and contented. Presently there was no light save the red glow of the fairy fire, and Auntie Jan got into bed beside him. She put her arm about him and drew him so that his head rested against her warm shoulder. He did not repulse her, he did not speak, but lay stiff and straight with his feet glued against that genial podgy something that was so infinitely comforting. "You are kind," Tony said suddenly. "I believe you." The stiff little body relaxed and lay against hers in confiding abandonment, and soon he was sound asleep.