“That is a wise nurse,” said he, kindly; “I wish I could take your place myself, but I must be with the little fellow myself; and I am afraid we can only leave his brother to your nephew for this one night. Should you be afraid to be sole nurse?” he added, as Johnny came to Armine’s door. “I think I know what to do, if Jock can stand having me,” said Johnny, stoutly, as soon as he understood the question. “Mother!” just then shouted Jock, and as Johnny obeyed the call, he began--“I want my head higher--no--I say not you--Mother Carey!” “She is busy with the doctor.” “Can’t she come and do this? No, I say,” and he threw the nearest thing at hand at him. “Come,” said Cecil, “I’m glad you can do such things as that.” But Jock gave a cry of pain, and protested that it was all John’s fault for making him hurt himself instead of fetching mother. “You had better let me lift you,” said John, “you know she is tired, and I _really_ am stronger.” “No, you shan’t touch me--a great clumsy lout.” In the midst of these amenities, the doctor appeared, and Jock looked slightly ashamed, especially when the doctor, instead of doing what was wanted, directed John where to put an arm, and how to give support, while moving the pillow, adding that he was a handy fellow, more so than many a pupil after half a year’s training at the hospital, and smiling down Jock’s growls and groans, which were as much from displeasure as from pain. They were followed by some despairing sighs at the horrors of the prospect of being moved. “Ah! what will you give me for letting you off?” said the Doctor. Jock uttered a sound of relief, then, rather distrustfully, asked--“Why?” “We can only get bearers enough for one; and as it is most important to move your brother, while you will gain by a night’s rest, he must have the first turn.” “And welcome,” said Jock; “my mother will stay with me.” “That’s the very point,” said Dr. Medlicott. “I want you not only to give her up, but to do so cheerfully.” “I’m sure mother wants to stay with me. Armine does not need her half so much.” “He does not require the same kind of attention; but he is in so critical a state that I do not think I ought to separate her from him.” “Why, what is the matter with him?” asked Jock, startled. “Congestion of the right lung,” said the doctor, seeing that he was strong enough to bear the information, and feeling the need of rousing him from his monopolising self-absorption. “People get over that, don’t they?” said Jock, with an awestruck interrogation in his voice. “They _do_; and I hope much from getting him into a warmer atmosphere, but the child is so much reduced that the risk is great, and I should not dare not to have his mother with him.” Then, as Jock was silent, “I have told you because you can make a great difference to their comfort by not showing how much it costs you to let her go.”