"Did the doctor say this morning that they should be tied up?" asked Meg. "No; only bathed often. He said while he kept them shut of his own accord it was better not to harass him with a bandage. He looked very serious over it, Meg." Meg did not answer. She was stroking the little face tenderly, and smoothing the soft brown curls. "Poor little man," she whispered at length. Mrs. Seymour fed the child with a spoon, and just as she had finished a knock came at the sitting-room door, which she went to answer. Meg guessed what it was, but she lay quiet, her thoughts dwelling on what Dickie had suggested--that the Home above was better than this. Mrs. Seymour did not return for some time, nor indeed till the steps of Jem and Cherry were heard coming back from the hospital. She went outside to meet them, telling Cherry to go up-stairs, and preparing Jem by a low word for what he would find in his room when he entered. Though he knew it would be so, the little coffin having been promised at seven o'clock, yet it was a shock to him after all; and he was glad that his kind mother had let him go alone into the room, that he might have time to get over his feelings. Mrs. Seymour, finding that Meg was quiet, and even cheerful, went up-stairs to look after Cherry, and to see if her invalid lodger should want anything. She found the poor child sitting near the fire, looking very mournful; and guessing at once that she had lost her father, she went up to her and kissed her kindly, saying-- "You must tell me all about it presently, dear child. Just now I want you to help me as nicely as you did this morning." Cherry looked up, greatly relieved to be set to work at something. "What can I do?" she asked. "Let us get the bath ready for Dickie again, and then you go down and fetch him, Cherry. Wrap this about him. He is awake; but I shall bathe him up here, for I think Meg has had enough excitement." Cherry quickly understood, and in a few minutes all was ready, and she was standing by Meg's side asking Dickie if he would not like another warm bath. "I'd rather stay 'ere," said Dickie; "but you'll let me come back, Cherry?" "Oh, yes; only Mrs. Seymour has got such a lovely fire for yer, Dickie; and I'm goin' to try to carry yer up." Meg added her word that it would be very nice; so Dickie allowed himself to be lifted out of bed. "I 'tom back soon," he nodded, as he was borne towards the door. "Yes, dear." Then as Cherry went out, Jem came in from the other room, and sat down by his wife's side. "Let me carry him, dear," said Mrs. Blunt's voice outside. "He's too heavy for you, and I was just a-goin' up." "Oh, thank you; but I often do carry him," said Cherry. "My! ain't he light? Well, dear," to the child, "you're not afraid as I am old Sairy?" For Mrs. Blunt had heard the whole story from Miss Hobson that morning. "No," said Dickie; but the very name made him tremble, and Mrs. Blunt, perceiving it, knew she should not have said that.