curiosity and amusement; inquired the children's names, and was greatly
interested in the dog, the cat, a rabbit, and two kittens, which after
dinner they successively brought to amuse him. And then he invited them
all to the Castle next day, and promised to take them over his garden
there.

"But how can you take us?" said the youngest, in spite of Helen's frown.
"We can run about, but you--"

"I can't run about, that is true; but I have a little carriage, and
Malcolm draws it, or Malcolm carries me, and then I can see such a deal.
I used to see nothing--only lie on a sofa all day, and have doctors
coming about me and hurting me," added the poor little earl, growing
confidential, as one by one the boys slipped away, leaving him alone
with Helen.

"Did they hurt you very much:" asked she.

"Oh, terribly; but I never told. You see, there was no use in telling;
it could not be helped, and it would only have made nurse cry--she
always cries over me. I think that is why I like Malcolm; he always
helps me, and he never cries. And I am getting a great boy now; I was
ten years old last week."

Ten years old, though he seemed scarcely more than five, except by the
old look of his face. But Helen took no notice, only saying "that she
hoped the doctors did not hurt him now."

"No, that is all over. Dr Hamilton says I am to be left to Nature,
whatever that is; I overheard him say it one day. And I begged of Mr.
Menteith not to shut me up any longer, or take me out only in my
carriage, but to let me go about as I like, Malcolm carrying me--
isn't he a big, strong fellow? You can't think how nice it is to be
carried about, and see every thing--oh, it makes me so happy!"

The tone in which he said "so happy" made the tears start to Helen's
eyes. She turned away to the window, where she saw her own big
brothers, homely-featured, and coarsely clad, but full of health, and
strength, and activity, and then looked at this poor boy, who had every
thing that fortune could give, and yet--nothing! She thought how
they grumbled and squabbled, those rough lads of hers; how she herself
often felt the burden of the large narrow household more than she could
bear, and lost heart and temper; then she thought of him--poor,
helpless soul!--you could hardly say body--who could neither move
hand nor foot--who was dependent as an infant on the kindness or
compassion of those about him. Yet he talked of being "so happy!" And
there e