It did not occur to her, indeed, that Jim could have very much real help to give; but she saw the anxiety in the young man’s face, and even (as she was always a person who could be amused at the most unlikely moments) the attitude of her little Mab, determined to sweep this big and obstinate encumbrance out of the way, stirred her with that sense of the humorous which gives so much solace to life. When Mab had most unwillingly gone out of the room, Jim came up, red and eager, and much flustered, to Lady William’s chair. ‘Aunt Emily,’ he said, breathless; ‘I know Mrs. Brown. She told me to tell you----’ ‘What, Jim! she told you--_you_!’ ‘Never mind that now,’ he cried, ‘I’ll explain after. She said: “If there is any chance of harm to Lady William--it sounds like madness, but I must say it--if she is likely to be overwhelmed, tell her not to be afraid, I’ll come.” That’s what she said, Aunt Emily. I thought she was mad--but then I thought I must tell you----’ ‘She was not mad. Thank you, thank you, Jim. Don’t say anything--to any one. She said she would come?’ ‘I was to tell you she would stand by you--not to be afraid--if you were likely to be overwhelmed----’ ‘Here is Mab coming back. Thank you, Jim, I understand, and I believe her--I believe her! You’ve given me great comfort. Thank you, thank you, Jim!’ Jim did not know why he was thanked any more than he knew what the meaning of his communication was; but he was greatly elated all the same, and felt the clearing up of Lady William’s countenance--which was, he said to himself, exactly like the clearing of the clouds from the sky--to be his doing, with the warmest sense of beneficence and pleasure. ‘She is ever so much better; she is almost quite right,’ he said to Mab, who came hurrying in with a glass of water, and who could not help feeling a little annoyance to be thus assured by Jim of her mother’s recovery. By Jim!--with a smirk as if he had been instrumental in the improvement. He went away with that look of complacence and gratification on his face for which Mab would fain have boxed his ears; but at all events he did take himself away, and that was always something gained. ‘Now, mother, you will have a little peace,’ said Mab. ‘Lie down a little on the sofa, and close your eyes. That always does Aunt Jane good, and perhaps it may you. But I don’t know what will do you good; you never give me the chance to know.’ ‘I don’t think closing my eyes will do me any good,’ said Lady William. ‘Give me that work of yours to set right, which you got into such a muddle last night. I am much better; I am almost all right, as poor Jim said.’ ‘He seemed to think he had something to do with it,’ said Mab, with a snort of disdain. ‘Poor Jim! and perhaps he had. He brought me a message. You never told me much about Mrs. Brown, Mab.’