told always get into trouble. Stop crying,
now. I dare say if Bertie goes they'll send you some candy, or
something."

But William John refused to be comforted. He cried himself to sleep
that night, and when Bertie went in to see him next morning, he found
him sitting up in bed with his eyes red and swollen and the faded
quilt drawn up around his pinched face.

"Well, William John, how are you?"

"I ain't any better," replied William John mournfully. "I s'pose
you'll have a great time tomorrow night, Bertie?"

"Oh, I'm not going since you can't," said Bertie cheerily. He thought
this would comfort William John, but it had exactly the opposite
effect. William John had cried until he could cry no more, but he
turned around and sobbed.

"There now!" he said in tearless despair. "That's just what I
expected. I did s'pose if I couldn't go you would, and tell me about
it. You're mean as mean can be."

"Come now, William John, don't be so cross. I thought you'd rather
have me home, but I'll go, if you want me to."

"Honest, now?"

"Yes, honest. I'll go anywhere to please you. I must be off to the
store now. Goodbye."

Thus committed, Bertie took his courage in both hands and went. The
next evening at dusk found him standing at Doctor Forbes's door with
a very violently beating heart. He was carefully dressed in his
well-worn best suit and a neat white collar. The frosty air had
crimsoned his cheeks and his hair was curling round his face.

Caroline opened the door and showed him into the parlour, where Edith
and Amy were eagerly awaiting him.

"Happy New Year, Bertie," cried Amy. "And--but, why, where is William
John?"

"He couldn't come," answered Bertie anxiously--he was afraid he might
not be welcome without William John. "He's real sick. He caught cold
and has to stay in bed; but he wanted to come awful bad."

"Oh, dear me! Poor William John!" said Amy in a disappointed tone. But
all further remarks were cut short by the entrance of Doctor Forbes.

"How do you do?" he said, giving Bertie's hand a hearty shake. "But
where is the other little fellow my girls were expecting?"

Bertie patiently reaccounted for William John's non-appearance.

"It's a bad time for colds," said the doctor, sitting down and
attacking the fire. "I dare say, though, you have to run so fast these
days that a cold couldn't catch you. I suppose you'll soon be leaving
Sampson's. He told me he didn't need you after the holiday season