Meg put out her hand and touched his head. "Jem dear?" she questioned; while Mrs. Seymour laid a firm hand on his arm, and said gravely-- "Don't give way so, my son, or you'll worry her." But Jem was wholly overcome. "It might ha' been ours, it might ha' been ours!" he said, over and over again, till Mrs. Seymour was quite beside herself. "Tell me, Jem," said Meg gently. "Have you found Dickie?" He nodded. "Was he being hurt?" she asked again. He nodded again. "How?" Jem shivered. "_How_ I shall never tell to mortal being!" he exclaimed; "but it was something they are doing to his eyes." "His eyes?" said Meg, leaning up. "Oh, Jem, do tell me quick!" "To make them bad, to get more money by begging," said Jem, as if the words were forced from him; "and his father's dying in the hospital, and he'll be left to their mercy!" "Can't you fetch him here?" asked Meg. Jem looked up. "Meg! could we--now? You and me was talkin' of it this mornin'. They'll be orphans to-morrow." Meg smiled a weak sweet smile as she looked towards the cot. "Bring him if you can," she answered, "and Cherry too." Mrs. Seymour could hardly follow the course of their thoughts, for she knew so little of what had gone before, and when Jem rose up and left the house for the second time, she was too astonished to protest. This time he was gone longer than before, and Meg ate what her mother brought, and dozed quietly. After some time his step was again heard, and he came quickly up. Meg's eyes opened, and she listened intently. Yes, that was his step, and after it surely, surely, there was the halting one of poor little Cherry. Jem opened the door and came softly in. "Meg," he said, in a smothered voice, "God has sent us two little children instead of the one He's took to Himself. Here is Dickie for you to comfort." Meg opened her arms, and Jem laid Dickie in them. "No one shan't hurt you any more, Dickie, while we live," he said; "don't you have any more fear." The child had given one rapid glance at Meg's face, and the moment he recognized her he nestled down confidently in her arms, while Cherry stood by with happy tears running down her cheeks. "It's a solemn charge, Jem," said his mother. "Cherry says she's been askin' Jesus to find a home for him for ever so long, and now it's come," answered Jem. "Cherry, child," said Mrs. Seymour, "you come up with me, and I'll put you to bed, and to-morrow we'll talk it all over." "Yes, to-morrow I must go and see their father at the hospital. I trust he'll live till then." "You won't be 'fraid for 'Cherry' to go to bed, Dickie?" asked the little girl, looking down on him as he lay. Dickie shook his head. "I'll stay along of mo'ver-Meg," he said. Jem sat down, quite overcome, and drew the trembling little Cherry within his kind arm.