nurse, like most little boys have in India. An old
Scotchwoman called Maggie, who had left her northern home with Jeff's
mother when she was married, did everything for the little boy that was
required. She certainly had a great deal of mending to do, for Jeff
was active and restless, and tore his clothes and wore holes in his
stockings very often. And Maggie was not always very good-tempered,
and used to scold the little master for very trifling matters.

But she loved her lady's child dearly for all that, and Jeff very well
knew that she loved him and that her cross words did not mean much.

I think everyone in his home loved the little lad. He was so merry and
bright, so fearless of danger, so honest and bold in speech, that he
won all hearts.

His life had been a very happy one till now. But one day all the
brightness and happiness came suddenly to an end, and Jeff thought that
he could never feel quite so light-hearted again. He could never be
sure that anything would last.

"Mother dear, do tell me, why are you getting me so many new clothes?"
he said one morning, resting his elbow on his mother's knee, and
playing with the soft blue ribbons that trimmed her white dress.

Upon the table there was quite a big heap of new shirts and dozens of
stockings all waiting to be marked.

"I am sure I cannot wear all these things here, because they are quite
thick and warm, and I know we are not going to the hills this summer,
for I heard father say he could not afford it."

Maggie came in at this moment with another tray piled up with collars
and handkerchiefs. Then the mother put down her book and drew her
little boy's head closer to her breast. He could hear her watch
ticking now. Jeff heard, and felt too, that her heart was beating
quickly. He smiled upwards at the loving grave eyes.

"But you know you haven't been running, mother." And he laid his
little brown hand against her breast. Poor heart! aching with a grief
it dared not express, bursting with an anguish it had long concealed.

"My little lad, how can I let you go from me?" she said very softly,
still holding him near to her. He raised himself out of her arms
quickly and looked with wondering eyes at Maggie and the heap of
clothes.

"Where to? Where am I going?" he said, with all a child's eager
curiosity shining in his eyes. "But not without you, mother?"

Then the poor mother turned away with a sob, saying,

"Maggie, you tell him.