It was a dreary day for the brother and sister when they learned from the lips of the tutor that their father had forbidden them to have anything further to do with their new friend whom they both liked so much. Harry was particularly displeased because he declared that it was all Laura’s fault for sneaking off by herself to visit him and then getting him to write letters to her, which she should have known was altogether improper. Laura on her part declared that if Harry had not been so hateful she would never have thought of doing anything to spite him and ended the discussion by declaring angrily, that she thought boys a nuisance and she was never going to have anything more to do with any of them so long as she lived. That afternoon Kitty Harriott came to see her, and on learning the dreadful news, proceeded to console her as well as she could, assuring her friend that it would all come out right after all just as it did in the story books of which they were so fond. During the first few days of his confinement in the hospital, Bruce found that the time hung very heavy on his hands, that his wounds were painful, his spirits low, and if it had not been for the occasional visits of his friends from the quarters, it is possible that he would have come to the conclusion that after all a fireman’s life was not a happy one. He was rather surprised that the Van Kuren children neither came to see him again nor wrote to him, but the truth was that Harry and Laura who were, in spite of their many faults, tactful children and thoughtful of the feelings of others, had decided that it would be best to keep their friend in ignorance of their father’s commands. “Because,” they argued, “he has a hard enough time of it now, lying there all day in the hospital, and if he learns that our father has put a stop to our friendship with him, it may make him worse, and it will certainly not make him any happier than he is.” Bruce, of course, knew nothing about this, but imagined that the children would come to see him or write him again at the first opportunity. As he grew better he found himself taking an interest in the events of the ward in which he lay, and it was not long before he had made the acquaintance of a few of the patients who were well enough to walk about and gossip with the occupants of the different beds. Most of the people in the casualty ward were working men who had met with accidents, and he noticed to his surprise that some of them seemed in no hurry to get well, and always limped in the most grievous fashion when any of the doctors were about. It was Skinny the Swiper who explained this phenomenon to him by remarking that these invalids lived better in the hospital than they did at home and at much less expense, and were therefore perfectly willing to stay there all winter and board at the expense of the city without doing any hard work.