An' he got it, too, an' brung it home, an' they say it
cut him up somethin' turrible when the boy jest turned away, and didn't
take no notice. You understand, 'course, sir, the little chap ain't
right in his head, an' so half the time he don't know what he says."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sorry!" exclaimed Gurnsey, as he turned away, and
hurried toward the farmhouse.

Mrs. Holly herself answered his low knock. She looked worn and pale.

"Thank you, sir," she said gratefully, in reply to his offer of
assistance, "but there isn't anything you can do, Mr. Gurnsey. We're
having everything done that can be, and every one is very kind. We have
a very good nurse, and Dr. Kennedy has had consultation with Dr. Benson
from the Junction. They are doing all in their power, of course, but
they say that--that it's going to be the nursing that will count now."

"Then I don't fear for him, surely" declared the man, with fervor.

"I know, but--well, he shall have the very best possible--of that."

"I know he will; but isn't there anything--anything that I can do?"

She shook her head.

"No. Of course, if he gets better--" She hesitated; then lifted her
chin a little higher; "WHEN he gets better," she corrected with
courageous emphasis, "he will want to see you."

"And he shall see me," asserted Gurnsey. "And he will be better, Mrs.
Holly,--I'm sure he will."

"Yes, yes, of course, only--oh, Mr. Jack, he's so sick--so very sick!
The doctor says he's a peculiarly sensitive nature, and that he thinks
something's been troubling him lately." Her voice broke.

"Poor little chap!" Mr. Jack's voice, too, was husky.

She looked up with swift gratefulness for his sympathy.

"And you loved him, too, I know" she choked. "He talks of you
often--very often."

"Indeed I love him! Who could help it?"

"There couldn't anybody, Mr. Jack,--and that's just it. Now, since he's
been sick, we've wondered more than ever who he is. You see, I can't
help thinking that somewhere he's got friends who ought to know about
him--now."

"Yes, I see," nodded the man.

"He isn't an ordinary boy, Mr. Jack. He's been trained in lots of
ways--about his manners, and at the table, and all that. And lots of
things his father has told him are beautiful, just beautiful! He isn't
a tramp. He never was one. And there's his playing. YOU know how he can
play."

"Indeed I do! You must miss his playing, too."

"I do; he talks of that, also," she hurried on, working her